Firemen's Prayer
When I am called to duty, God,
Whenever Flames may rage,
give me strength to save some life
whatever be its age.
child little a embrace me Help before it is to late,
or save an old person
from the horror of that fate.
Enable me to be alert
and hear the weakest shout.
to quickly and efficiently
put the fire out.
I want to fill my calling
and to give the best in me,
to guard my every neighbor
and protect his property.
And if according to my fate ....
I am to lose my life,
please bless with your protecting hand
my children and my wife.
Author Unknown
The Creation of the Firefighter
When the Lord was creating Firefighters, he was into his sixth day of overtime when an Angel appeared
and said " Your doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."
And the Lord said " Have you read the specification on this person?"
"Firefighters have to be able to go for hours fighting fires or tending to a person that the usual every day person
would never touch, while putting in the back of their mind the circumstances. They have to be able to move at a second's
notice and not think twice of what they are about to do, no matter the danger. They have to be in top physical condition
at all times, running on half eaten meals, and they must have six pairs of hands."
The Angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands... No way!"
" Its not the hands that are causing me problems," said the Lord, "its the three pairs of eyes a Firefighter has to
have."
"That's on the standard model?" asked the Angel.
The Lord nodded. "One pair that sees through the fire and where they and their fellow Firefighters should fight the fire
next. Another pair here in the side of the head to see their fellow Firefighters and keep them safe. Another pair of
eyes in the front so that they can look for the victims caught in the fire that need their help."
"Lord" said the Angel, touching his sleeve, "Rest and work on this tomorrow."
"I can't, said the Lord, "I already have a model that can carry a 250 pound man down a flight of stairs and to safety
from a burning building, and can feed a family of five on a civil service paycheck."
The Angel circled the model of the Firefighter very slowly, "Can it think?"
"You bet," said the Lord. It can tell you the elements of a hundred fires, and can recite procedures in their sleep that
are needed to care for a person until they reach the hospital. And all the while they have to keep their wits about
themselves. This Firefighter also has phenomenal personal control. They can deal with a scene full of pain and hurt,
coaxing a child's mother into letting go of a child so that they can care for the child in need. And still they rarely
get the recognition for a job well done from anybody, other then from fellow firefighters."
Finally, the Angel bent over and ran her fingers across the cheek of the Firefighter, "There's a leak," she pronounced.
"Lord, its a tear."
"What's the tear for?" asked the Angel.
"Its a tear from bottled up emotions for fallen comrades. A tear for commitment to that funny piece of cloth called the
American Flag. Its a tear for all the pain and suffering they have encountered. And its a tear for their commitment to
caring for and saving lives of their fellow man!"
"What a wonderful feature Lord, you're a genius" said the Angel.
The Lord looked somber and said "I didn't put it there."
~ Author Unknown~
A Firefighter's gloves
A Firefighters Gloves hold many things,
From elderly arms to a kids broken swing,
From the hands they shake and the backs they pat,
To the tiny claw marks of another treed cat.
At 2 am they are filled with the chrome,
From the DWI who was on her way home.
And the equipment they use to roll back the dash,
From a family of 6 she involved in the crash.
The brush rakes in Spring wear the palms out,
When the wind does a "90" to fill them with doubt.
The thumb of the glove wipes the sweat from the brow,
Of the face of a firefighter who mutters "What now"!
They hold inch and three quarters flowing one seventy five,
So the ones going in, come back out alive.
When the regulator goes; then there isn't too much,
But the bypass valve they eagerly clutch.
The rescue equipment, the ropes, the C-collars;
The lives that they save never measured in dollars,
Are the obvious things firefighters gloves hold,
Or, so that is what I've been always told.
But there are other things Firefighters Gloves touch,
Those are the things we all need so much.
They hold back the rage on that 3 am call,
They hold in the fear when your lost in a hall,
They hold back the pity, agony, sorrow.
They hold in the desire to "Do it tomorrow".
A glove is just a glove till it's on firefighter,
Who work all day long just to pull an all-nighter.
And into the foray they charge without fear,
At the sound of a "Help" they think that they hear.
When firefighters' hands go into the glove,
It's a firefighter who always fills it with love.
Sometimes the sorrow is too much to bear,
And it seeps the glove and burns deep "in there".
Off come the gloves when the call is done,
And into the pocket until the next run.
The hands become lonely and cold for a bit,
And shake just a little thinking of it.
And we sit there so red eyed with our gloves in their coats,
The tears come so fast that the furniture floats.
We're not so brave now; our hands we can't hide,
I guess it just means that we're human inside.
And though some are paid and others are not,
The gloves feel the same when it's cold or it's hot.
To someone you're helping to just get along,
When you fill them with love, you always feel strong.
And so when I go on my final big ride,
I hope to have my gloves by my side,
To show to St. Peter at that heavenly gate.
Cause as everyone knows, FIREFIGHTERS DO NOT WAIT!
Thank God.
~ Brenda Tressler ~
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