Little Timmy Thompson is sitting in the back of his mom’s baby blue Ford Taurus station wagon. He’s in a reverse seat at 5 years old. They’re at a 4-way intersection and have come to a stop. He hears this thing coming up behind him and it’s screaming. He’s never heard anything like it in his life. Mom’s staring forward looks in the rearview mirror and little Timmy’s just back there shaking trying to get his head turned around. He can’t see what it is, but it’s getting closer and closer. It’s wailing and blistering out. It’s 104 degrees out the windows are cracked, it’s stifling in this car. “WA-AAH WA-AAH” just echoing out, little Timmy is trembling.
It pulls up next to him and he sees a big flash of red. Pulls right out in front of them and screeches to a halt at 45 degrees. Comes up on the median, and there’s this 3-alarm house fire right there. This kid sees it from 30 feet away. Then this big strong dude jumps out of the backseat of the fire engine, huge handle bar mustache, looks like an NFL line backer. Fireman grabs the set of irons, looks back at that kid and gives him a wink then runs inside that house fire.
From that moment on every single Christmas, every single birthday little Timmy Thompson has wanted to be a fireman. His mom bought him every single fire truck, every single fireman birthday cake, every single Halloween dressed up as a fireman. That is what he’s done. That is the only thing he has ever wanted. That one singular event has affected this kid, his entire natural life. Now he’s 17 years old the job fair comes to high school. Police, construction, military you’ve got the marines with the pull-up station, and you’ve got a fireman station. He’s the first one at the fireman station, “I want to be a fireman”, “I want to be a fireman so bad”, and you can see it radiating out of this kid. Tells the story about the guy with the handlebar mustache and says “This is all I’ve ever wanted to do”, “This is my calling”. The anticipation has just built and built.
Kid graduates, he’s 18 years old, where is he? He’s at the fire academy. Going through the academy, does the entire thing, graduates top of his class. 4 or 5 years into the job he’s waking up ready to go on shift, pulls back his handle bar mustache. Now he’s 6′ 1″ 240lbs, he looks like that NFL linebacker. He jumps into the truck and is going to the fire. He jumps out, sees that little kid in the back of his mom’s car. Gives him a wink and that nod. He’s infected that kid with the same thing that happened to him. It has come full circle.
Moral of the story is: little kids want to be like us. That one small moment inspired little Timmy Thompson. Like so many of us, from that moment on he had no desire in this world but one: to be a fireman.
We must never take it for granted how little kids see us. They want to be just like us, so be worth being. Take the time to show a child around your fire engine. Look out the window and wave back at kids as you’re going on calls. Do station tours, and show them you care. Hand out stickers and helmets. When you hear that kid whisper to their mother in the grocery store “there’s a firefighter”. Go over and say hi. Be a part of your community. When the neighbor’s house catches on fire and you’re rolling hose and picking up shop, let the kids climb on and play in the fire engine. After all, it is THEIR fire engine. Most importantly, be a role model for these children. You might be the only one that some of them have.
How many other occupations can honestly say they have a job that kids love and look up to? We certainly do. Never take this lightly. We must always be looking and willing to take the opportunity to make a kid’s day. There are numerous opportunities throughout the day to show a kid that we are who we say that we are.
We have to do our job.
And our job is saving people.
Allowing Moms to become grandmas,
Fathers to dance with their daughters,
Kids to live longer than the parents.
We should never be disgruntled or inconvenienced by these children who just want to get to know and spend time around their heroes. It’s an honor to be viewed the way we are, and we must honor their desire to be like us by being worth being.
That little 7 year old that waves at you as you speed by.
He’s waving at HIS fire truck.
He expects his heroes to be on it.
Do you measure up?
Be worth being.