22: Things Heat Up

AS MOM CLIMBED OUT of the cellar and shut the door, her heart sank. In the darkness she saw flames covering most of the front yard. It hadn’t reached the house . . . yet. But as Mom peered through the smoke, she saw little Julie standing on the front porch.

She was screaming, “Momma!”

“Sweetheart!” Mom shouted.

Julie started down the steps toward her.

“No!” Mom yelled. “Stop! The fire!”

“I’m afraid!”

“Stay back!”

“I want you.”

“I know!” Mom frantically searched the yard looking for an opening in the smoke and flames.

Julie took another step toward her. “Momma . . .”

“No! Stay there!”

Julie stopped, crying even harder.

“I know, baby. I know.” Mom continued to search until she spotted it. “There!” She pointed to the far side of the house where there was no fire, at least not yet. “Run to the back door. I’ll go around and meet you there!”

“I want you. I —”

“I know, I know!” Mom shouted. “I’ll meet you at the back, and we’ll go around the fire. Hurry, baby!”

Julie stood frozen.

“Go!” Mom shouted. “Julie, go!”

Still crying, Julie spun around. She ran up the steps and through the front door.

Mom turned and raced to the back side of the house where there was no fire. She ran to the back steps, but Julie wasn’t there.

“Julie? Julie!”

She raced up the steps and yanked open the door. “Julie? Jul —”

And there she was, standing to the side, tears streaming down her face.

Mom raced in and hugged her. “Sweetheart, you had me so worried.”

“I didn’t think —” Julie took a gulp through her tears. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“What?”

“You told me to go.”

“To the back, yes. Because the fire’s out front and —”

“Before that. You told me to go.”

“To the bathroom?” Mom asked. “Yes, but I didn’t know the fire was coming this way and we were so busy with the animals —”

“You told me to go.” Julie took another breath. “You told me to go and you had the baby and, and —” She broke into another set of tears.

“Sweetheart.” Mom hugged her tighter. “Is that what this is all about?”

Julie continued crying.

“Do you think I love Al more than you?”

Julie threw in a big sob (just in case Mom missed the point).

“Oh, sweetheart. I love you both.” Mom held her even tighter (just in case Julie missed the point). “My heart loves you to the moon and back times infinity.”

“But how . . .” Julie sniffed.

“How what, baby?”

“How does your heart . . . how does it have room for all that love?”

Mom grinned, feeling her own eyes tearing up. “It just gets bigger, sweetheart. That’s how God made us. The more we love, the more of His love He gives us so we can love even more.”

“So you love me as much as you love Al?”

“I love you both. So very, very much.”

Julie gave another sniff and wiped her eyes.

Mom had to do the same. Then, unable to stop being a mom, she hugged Julie again.

They stayed that way for several hours (or at least a minute) before Julie finally said, “Mom . . . Mom?”

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“If that fire’s coming . . .”

“Yes?”

“Shouldn’t we get out of here?”

“Right, good point.” They separated, and Mom wiped her eyes. But looking at Julie, she couldn’t resist tenderly brushing the hair from the little girl’s face.

“Mom?”

“Yes, baby.”

“We really should go.”