A FIREFIGHTER'S GLOVES A Firefighter’s Gloves hold many things; from elderly arms, to a kids broken swing; From the hands they shake and the backs they pat; to the tiny claw marks of another treed cat. At 2:00 am they are filled with the chrome; from the DUI who was on his way home. And the equipment they use to roll back the dash; from a family of six he involved in the crash.They hold inch and three quarters flowing 175; so the ones going in, come back out alive. When the regulator goes; and there isn't much, but the bypass valve they eagerly clutch. The equipment, the ropes, the oxygen and C-collars; the lives that they save never measured in dollars, Are the obvious things a firefighters gloves hold; or, so that is what I've always been told.But there are other things Firefighters Gloves touch; those are the things we all need so much, They hold back the rage on that 3:00 am call; they hold in the fear when your lost in a hall. They hold back the pity, agony, sorrow; they hold in the desire to "Do it tomorrow."A glove is just a glove till it's on firefighters; who work all day long just to pull an all-nighter; And into the fire they charge without fear; at the sound of a "Help" they think that they hear. When firefighters hands go into the glove; it's a firefighter who always fills it with love, Sometimes the sorrow is too much to bear; and it seeps in the glove and burns deep "in there."Off comes the gloves when the call is done; and into the pocket until the next run, And though some are paid and others are not; the gloves feel the same when it's cold or it's hot. To someone you're helping to just get along; when you fill them with love, you always feel strong.And so when I go on my final big ride; I hope to have my gloves close by my side, Because like a fellow comrade, through thick and thin; my gloves have always been with me until the end.
Call Waiting I'm laying in the darkness, I cannot fall asleep. I wonder where my husband is, I wish he'd call or beep. I saw him leave this morning, the black boots on his feet. He said he had to run now, and I know he's on the street. You'll know him when You see him, his truck is very loud. He has no time to stop now, he doesn't want a crowd. A caller said "Please hurry!" Come quickly if you will. A young man with a motorbike is laying very still. A mother calls in anguish, her child limp and blue. HURRY! Come, I need you, and I don't know what to do. I hear his key turning, he's coming in the door. I hear him drop his boots, then footsteps on the floor. I hear him in the kitchen, I can tell him from his walk, He'll soon come and wake me, and ask if we can talk. We'll sit out in the moonlight, and listen to the night. He talks about a shooting, a street gang in a fight. A car crash, a drowning, a small child hurt at play. The things he needs to talk about, the things he did today. The old, the sick, the injured, some so very small. He did all he could to help them, he answered every call. Every day he has a mission, he knows it in his heart. He does everything he can and always does his part. If you are sick or injured and you need to reach my Hon, I can tell you how to reach him, his number is ......911