For myself, it is quite rare to find someone else who lost their childhood memories to a fire. Although house fires aren’t uncommon in themselves, they can happen to anyone at any time. I am no exception, and in 2006, I lost every shred of childhood that was left. My pictures, memories, material things and shreds of innocence were torn from me by fire.
To tell this story, I must go all the way back to when I was eight years old. Up to this point, nothing had gone wrong in my life. In fact, everything was relatively perfect. I had moved from Brewster, New York to Raleigh, North Carolina in 2003. I attended Ravenscroft school, had made some fantastic friends (for an eight-year-old) and everything was going the way things should be going. That day, which I will never forget, was already going swimmingly.
I had finished my school day, and my sister and I were told that we would be spending the night at a friends house. We had no inkling of an idea that anything was wrong, up to that point. That night, I went to bed as if nothing had changed, and by the next morning, everything had. My parents came to pick us up, and they sat us down to tell us what had happened. While we were at school the day before, a fire had started in the top of our house and spread, destroying everything we had.
What affected me most was the time period when the fire happened. I hadn’t experienced much of life yet; I was only eight years old. What I learned from the experience, however, is that you can’t cry over spilled milk (or in my case, a burnt house). Despite losing everything that I had, the community around my family was immensely supportive. Members of my school helped us with dinner, provided us with a place to stay until we could get back on our feet. I continued going to school, and my life was inundated with questions. Everyone wanted to know how the fire had started, if anyone was hurt, how we were doing. The thing that they didn’t understand is that, while everyone was fine and we had only physically lost material things, was that on the inside we were all changed. My sister, younger than I, probably doesn’t remember the event as clearly as I do. Even within my own head, the events aren’t entirely clear.
What I was able to take away from this event is that you can’t get knocked on your ass without getting back up. Things get better, and sure it takes effort, but you can’t give up. You have to have faith in the community around you to lift you up, not put you down. Everyone has their own experiences and difficulties, but we are all human, and we all struggle together.
Now as I write this, 10 years after that day lost to memory, I realize how important it is to be ready for anything. You can’t attach immense value to material things, but the people that you have. Without my parents, my sister, my friends and my extended family, the event would have been completely different. Love those around you, and they will love you back. If you put good into the world, good will come back to you.
