Dignity, grace and class

I haven't been blogging much recently.

My life has been fairly mundane, and nothing new or exciting is happening.

Last week, there was a day when the wind was out of control. My co-worker and I noticed our eyes burned when we were outside. To be honest, I was nervous about something else and I wasn't paying much attention to recent happenings.

It turns out there was a fire, maybe a mile or two from where I live and work. (I don't know the exact distance, maybe it's three miles.)

There was a rumor going around town that a house burned down. Back in the day, everyone took swimming lessons at this house. This house, along with the people who live in it, are literally the definition of my childhood.

Rumors swirled around for a day or two. Then, the son posted photos on Facebook. The house survived, with some damage to its siding and windows, but everything else was gone.

For the record, I think the fire got seven homes near town.

Anyway, a couple of days after that, my Dad asked me if I wanted to go to their house. The owners of the house with the pool had asked him to look at and possibly fix something.

Sure, I said.

I followed him out there, and talked to the wife while my Dad tinkered around and tried to fix the issue.

Donating money is great, and donating food is also great, but part of helping people just involves being there. The wife remembered me right away, asked about my life, my mom, and things like that.

"You look different from the last time I saw you," she said.

Yes, aging 25 years does that to a person.

:)

After we left, I told my dad something.

There was not an ounce of anger in anyone's voice at that house.

It's easy to place blame, to say that the fire never should have happened in the first place.

But that evening, no one at their house was angry. They thanked and credited firefighters for saving their house.

The pool that I swam in when I was little looks a little...different. Not even the pool liner survived, but you can see a part of the handrail that led into the pool. It now leads to a blackened hole in the ground.

If I ever go through something like that, in the face of tragedy, of adversity, and of trying times where losses are monumental, I hope I show an ounce of the dignity, grace and class that they showed me that night.

I didn't go there that night to take photos, or even to write a blog post about it.

I went there because I care.

I sent money to another family who lost their house, also because I care.

Because that's what you do when this happens.

You care.

You help.