Fire. Again? We can't believe it. Just two weeks ago we saw the flames up close. Again, a giant column of black, reddish, and white smoke. We estimate the fire is less than a kilometer away.In a few minutes they will confine us. The tragedy of Almeria comes to mind. Trying to flee is dangerous, I know. But I also know that if we decide to leave, it has to be now. We have a baby. In a few minutes we may no longer be able to choose.We make the decision. We leave. Three adults, a baby, and two dogs. Now, things. In seconds you have to decide what you take with you and what you leave behind. Without thinking, you make an accelerated inventory of your life. And you establish a hierarchy that you had never considered. Many things that hours before seemed important cease to be so. We leave at full speed. We manage to get away. Some relatives offer us a place to spend the night. We stop to buy the essentials: a travel crib, a mattress, two changes of clothes, a little food, chargers for the phones, dog food, and a toy car so the little one has something to entertain himself with.During the journey we see seaplanes flying over the mountains. We call neighbors and friends. They are safe, they tell us. They are afraid. Us too. Even if one is already far away, the fire continues inside.We feel fear, doubts, helplessness, the urge to cry, vulnerability. The little one observes us. He perceives that something is happening. The tone of our voices, the calls, the rushes... And, suddenly, he smiles. A pure smile, oblivious to the fire and our anguish. And then you understand that, in extreme situations, there is always someone who reminds you what the true order of things is. Love and health.The rest is secondary. Being with the people you love, safe. At night they confirm that our house has not burned down. But the roads are still cut off. So we go to the apartment. We set up the crib. We prepare something for dinner. And, suddenly, word of honor, we realize that the toy car we had bought was a fire truck. The little one presses a button and a siren starts to sound. A siren...This is the summary: we have brought our son home safe and sound; our son has rescued us from our anguish; the firefighters have saved our town, and, while they will continue fighting the fire all night, the siren of that little toy, an echo of the real one, distracts our son so he can sleep out of all danger.Firefighters are heroes. True heroes. Thank you, and a thousand times thank you.
