Fire. The horizon is full of fire. It’s miles and miles away…surely, it will be contained in the massive forests? Surely, the rocks and hills will stop it. It’ll burn itself out any day now. The firefighters are working so hard. But no, it’s still out of control. Santa Ana winds are spreading the fire to larger and larger areas. Oh no! Now it’s morphed into several different fires, and they’re expanding exponentially. It can’t engulf entire communities, can it? Even here, it’s getting smokey, though the fires are still quite a distance away. The smoke is like fog now, blanketing everything, even though the fires are still miles away. Could they, might they, reach my town, my neighborhood? My home?
News reports from California show us weary firefighters who, with smoke-stained faces and gritty determination, struggle to hold the line against Mother Nature. We see the anxious faces of those whose homes lie in the path of destruction—people who have had to pack up whatever they could carry, leaving their beloved homes and precious possessions behind. Worst of all are the reports of lives lost. Of homes, schools, churches, entire neighborhoods and communities gone forever.
Many times, when disasters such as fires, floods or hurricanes approach, there is a bit of advance warning. If they’re lucky, people may have an hour or so to pack; sometimes even a day, prior to evacuation. Regardless how much time they have, decisions must be made quickly: what to take, what to leave behind. How on earth do they decide? Do they rush frantically from room to room, simply grabbing whatever they can? Do they try to assess what holds the most meaning, what cannot be replaced at any price?
Although we hope never to be faced with such decisions, the questions seem worthy of consideration. Can we put ourselves in the shoes of those who have recently–or are even now having to–make such decisions?
I invite you to take a few moments to ponder these questions: what would you take with you, given just an hour or two (which is more time than many California residents have had) to decide? What would you make room for, if the space was very limited?
First, let’s make a few assumptions. We’ll assume that we’ve already secured the safety of our most precious treasures—our family, our pets and ourselves–keeping in mind this is a luxury many don’t have. Our financial and legal documents are already in the car, along with a few clothes, some non-perishable food and our prescription medicines. We don’t have time to worry about furniture or other replaceable items, no matter how beloved they might be.
What’s left for our consideration are those things that define who we are, those sentimental, quirky or well-worn objects that warm our hearts and brighten our days—the truly irreplaceable bits and pieces of our lives. What would you pack?
For me, the first thing is my late mother’s Bible. It holds the essence of her philosophies on life and faith, as evidenced by the various passages she underlined, the notes and holy cards tucked among the pages.
Next, I run through the house, snatching up family photos. A few are framed or arranged neatly in albums; most are in a large box, waiting for the day (ha!) when I’ll finally organize them. Without a single word, these pictures tell the story of my life, and those of my family and friends. All the years, with their numerous celebrations, struggles and triumphs, are eloquently recorded…and precious beyond belief. But I can take only a few.
I stop in the doorway of my study, my sanctuary, snatching up some of my writings, a couple precious books, my laptop, a greeting card my daughter gave me years ago, in which she jotted down the lyrics to a Tom Petty song, a plaque depicting Genoa from my youngest son, a little clock my second son gave me long ago, and a “Mom” bookmark from my oldest son. And many cherished memories, which reside in my heart.
Dashing through the kitchen as I head to the car, I grab my purse, phone, and pictures on the fridge drawn by my grandchildren. But wait! Is there room for my mom’s battered, old 9”x13” cake pan, in which she always baked our birthday cakes?
Luckily, there’s no room left for my prejudices, my outsized ego, my mistakes, my judgments of others. Nothing else goes with me now except love, compassion, humility and gratitude.
What would you take with you? What do those items reveal about your values? Where does your true “wealth” reside? And does anything else really matter?
Kathy Baker is a writer and speaker, a messenger of encouragement who loves to touch hearts and tickle souls with her work. She is the author of “Leaving Adversity Plaza,” and “A Tale of Three Choices: His, Hers, Mine.” She loves hearing from her readers and can be reached at [email protected].