I believe in the power of family.
A couple weeks ago my family’s house caught on fire. I was on my way to go to go to church just off campus, when my mother called me and told me the news. Luckily no major damages were suffered, and no one was injured. When I heard from her lips that everything was fine and that she just wanted me to know, I headed into church.
Not two weeks later, a similar instance occurred. This time the fire was up on the second story of the house near my old bead room. The fire was contained quickly, but until the cause was determined, the power would be shut off, and the inhabitants, my family, would have to leave for the time being. My parents and my younger sister went to live with my grandma just down the corner in our rural neck of Noblesville, Indiana.
The second fire heightened my concern, but I was living comfortably in my dorm room at college. It wasn’t until that next weekend that the reality of the situation hit me. For the first time since the fires, I saw the old house. Everything looked the same except there were no dogs running in the yard, the lights were off and two green tarps lay on the roof.
I walked through the doors of my Grandma’s house, laundry in hand, and was greeted by a group of smiling faces. Though fire had kicked them out of their home, reuniting with family was enough to put their troubles at ease.
A house is symbolic for love, company and many other joyous things, but with out a family living in it, it is nothing. This is what I observed when I went over to the house the next day. It was dark and cold, lifeless. While my father was at work I rented a power generator so that I could temporarily turn the water pump on and unflood the basement. It was difficult to see my home in such a state, but I knew I had to be strong and help clean up the mess left by the two fires so that one day my family could bring life back into it.
I was surprised at how thankful my father was of me for doing this. There were many things left to be taken care of before he could move back in with my family, but none-the-less he was aware of how important the house was to me. It’s not that I loved the house, but rather that I loved the family inside it. It’s where I was raised, and learned most of my invaluable life lessons. Having an opportunity like this to step up and be a good son for my father meant everything to me. After all the years I depended on him, now he can trust and depend on me.
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