{"id":12420,"date":"2015-06-14T01:44:29","date_gmt":"2015-06-14T05:44:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=12420"},"modified":"2015-06-14T01:44:29","modified_gmt":"2015-06-14T05:44:29","slug":"take-away-from-fire","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2015\/06\/take-away-from-fire\/","title":{"rendered":"Take Away from Fire"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>A little girl of almost nine,<br \/>\nGets called to the Mother Superior&#8217;s office, with the rest of her family.<br \/>\nNone of her brothers or sisters comply with the intercom request. They were never called to the office. They never got into trouble.<br \/>\nIt&#8217;s a mistake, they think, telepathically. Mother Superior meant to call down a similar sounding Polish name.<br \/>\nWe were told our neighbor will pick us up. We will meet our parents at a coffee shop.<br \/>\nThere was a fire. No one was hurt. There was a fire. No one was hurt.<br \/>\nThank God.<br \/>\nWe live with our oldest brother&#8217;s family until our house is rebuilt. Fifteen people. Two bedrooms. One bathroom.<br \/>\nI no longer could complain of hand me down clothes and toys. I now had only charity clothes. There must have been toys. I don&#8217;t remember toys.<br \/>\nFast forward forty-two years.<br \/>\nI attend a speaking engagement of John O&#8217;Leary&#8217;s.<\/p>\n<p>Google him.<\/p>\n<p>Gut-wrenching sobs for childhoods lost. Co-workers around the table, uncomfortably avoiding my eyes. Distancing themselves from me.<br \/>\nI wasn&#8217;t there. I wasn&#8217;t burned. Why are you crying? No one was hurt in your fire.<\/p>\n<p>Material possessions are just immaterial.<br \/>\nThings are taken for granted in our lives of too muchness.<\/p>\n<p>Until it isn&#8217;t there.<\/p>\n<p>If I could save one thing from a fire., I would. It doesn&#8217;t matter what it is &#8211; it earns importance as a survivor of fire.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>A little girl of almost nine, Gets called to the Mother Superior&#8217;s office, with the rest of her family. None of her brothers or sisters comply with the intercom request. They were never called to the office. They never got into trouble. It&#8217;s a mistake,&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":215,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7,441],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12420","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem","category-poetry-prompt-responses"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12420","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/215"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12420"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12420\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12638,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12420\/revisions\/12638"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12420"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12420"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12420"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}