Unsung Heroes

Mack pumped the gas pedal of his old chevy, turned the key and muttered “c’mon ol girl” under his breath. The engine turned over slowly in the freezing night air, but it fired and then sputtered to life, billowing blue smoke from the dual exhaust.

It was his dad’s pride and joy back in the day, but that was back in the day. Now it was a rusted out and thoroughly worn out, last resort for transportation. So far it had grudgingly but reliably gotten him to work each day. Thankfully so because it was a new job and having been fired from the last three, he didn’t want to lose this one. His wife might just become an ex-wife if that happened. They had been fighting for several months now. In fact, nothing had been going too good lately and Mack had been fighting depression because of it.

He let the truck warm up for a bit and then pushed in the clutch and ground it into first gear, cursing at himself for his forgetful nature that had led to the groceries still being at the grocery store. He mentally added that to the growing list of things to be depressed about.

The store was only a couple miles away, but his gas gauge told him that a round-trip was out of the question without a stop at the gas station. He searched his memory for how much cash he had left and then searched his front pocket to verify the fact that he was broke. He pulled over to the side of the road next to a house a few blocks from his own and put his hands to his temples and tried to rub away the headache he knew was coming. He would have to go back to his house and get money from his wife. One more thing for her to be angry about.

He stared up at the countless stars in the pitch-black sky and let out a deep breath.

That’s when he saw it. A yellow and orange glow where there shouldn’t be one. He rolled down a window and craned his head out into the cold, night air and breathed in. Smoke. He smelled smoke. He jammed the truck into gear and hit the gas, worn tires chirping on the asphalt. The fire looked to be only a few blocks away and he didn’t hear any sirens.

His mind raced as he careened around a corner, and it harkened back to his days as a volunteer at the fire department in his hometown. He reached down for his phone to call 911, but it wasn’t there. He had left it at home!

Then it was there. Right in front of him. A two-story home, engulfed in flames! Neighbors in the street pointing, yelling. No fire trucks. No ambulances. He slammed on the brakes and stopped his truck at an angle against the curb, opposite the burning house. He shoved open the door and hit the street running. Up the stairs on the front porch he went in two leaps. The door was locked and made of metal with a dead bolt.

He ran to the back door and found it to be unlocked. He shoved it open and stepped into house, yelling to announce his presence. He heard a scream for help and headed towards the sound of the cry, down a hall from the mudroom where he had entered. The smoke was thick and burned his nose and throat. He tried to stay low and covered his mouth and nose with his left hand, feeling the wall with his right.

He felt her before he saw her. Her hand was on the same wall as his. A young woman with a baby! She was crying hysterically and nearly collapsed into his arms. He assured her everything would be alright and taking her hand in his, led her back through the smoke to the door he had entered. Out on the porch he asked her if there was anyone else in the home. The young lady nodded and spoke through sobs, telling him there was a six-year-old brother and a three year old sister still in the house!

“Where?” he shouted. She shook her head and spoke through uncontrolled sobs. “Their rooms I think, but I don’t know! My brother’s bedroom is downstairs, and my sister’s is upstairs. Please help them! Please!”

Mack ran back into the house without hesitation and returned just a couple of moments later with the young brother. Both were coughing, and both scorched by the fire.

Despite his injuries and despite the risk, Mack would return to the burning house a third time, jumping from the second story with a little girl cradled in his arms, and using his own body to cushion the impact for the child.

The firemen, now on the scene, had watched his last act of heroism, with eyes wide in disbelief. They rushed to his side and took the young girl from his arms. She was shaken but unharmed. Mack wasn’t quite as lucky. He had multiple 2nd degree burns to his body, some broken ribs and a concussion. But he was alive. More alive than he had ever been.

He lay there in the cool grass, thanking God for his life. Thanking God that he was protected long enough to save everyone in the house and still be alive to return to his wife and his son. As he lay there, all of his problems melted away into the nothingness that they truly were. And he found peace and purpose and a reason to smile for the first time in a long time.

There would be much ado about his acts of heroism in the days and weeks to come. Even national news would eventually pick up the story. But none of that would matter to Mack. He hadn’t raced into the building to become a hero. He hadn’t risked his life for headlines or profit. He had simply wanted to save lives. And he did. (inspired by a true story)

As we begin our 25th year saving and forever changing the lives of orphan children throughout the world, it is with the knowledge that we are surrounded by thousands of unsung heroes that make our mission possible. Without you, not a single life would have been saved. All of this would have been nothing more than an idea. An unfulfilled dream to come to the aid of orphans and widows in their time of need.

And while we know, that like “Mack”, you give all of the glory to God, it is still more than notable that there are such kind and loving people out there, willing to make sacrifices to save lives. To forever change those lives, and in doing so, change the world, one little life and soul at a time.

The world is always “on fire.” And there will always be children that have no one else to save them from death, or a life filled with misery. A life without hope. A life in which, if they survive, they will become what they have learned in order to do so.

Each and every one of you are unsung heroes; running through the flames and smoke to rescue a child from near-certain death. For just as surely as the flames of a burning house take lives, so do the tragic circumstances that millions of children are born into.

We are forever thankful to God for creating such loving, kind and selfless souls. Here is to another year of doing good in His name and to His glory. We are humbled and thankful to you all for making it possible.