When the lord was creating fire fighters, he was into his sixth day of overtime when an angel appeared and said, you’re doing a lot of fiddling around on this one. And the lord said, have you read the specification on this person? Fire fighters have to be able to go for hours fighting fires or tending to a person that the usual everyday person would never touch, while putting in the back, of their minds the circumstances. They have to able to move at a second’s notice and not think twice of what they are about to do, no matter what danger. They have to be in top physical condition at all times, running on half-eaten meals, and they must have six pairs of hands. The angel shook her head slowly and said, six pairs of hands. No way. It’s not the hands, that are causing me problems said the Lord, it’s the three pairs of eyes a fire fighter has to have. That on standard model? Asked the angel. The lord nodded. One pair to see through the fire and where they and their fellow fire fighters should fight the fire next. Another pair here in the side of their head to see their fellow fire fighters and keep them safe. And another pair of eyes in the front so that they can look for victims caught in the fires who need their help. Lord, said the angel, touching his sleeve, rest and work on this tomorrow. I can’t, said the lord, I already have a model that can carry a 250-pound man down a flight of stairs to safety from a burning building, and can feed a family of five on a civil services paycheck. The angel circled the model of the fire fighter very slowly. Can it think? You bet, said the Lord. They can tell you the elements of a hundred fires and can recite procedures in their sleep that are needed to care for a person until they reach the hospital. And all the while they have to keep their wits about them. Fire fighters also have phenomenal personal control. They can deal with a scene full of pain and hurt, coaxing a child’s mother into letting go of the child so that they can care for the child in need. And still rarely get the recognition for a job well done from anybody, other than from fellow fire fighters. Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the fire fighter. There’s a leak, she pronounced, Lord it’s a tear. What’s the tear for? It’s a tear from the bottled-up emotions for fallen comrades. A tear for commitment to that funny piece of cloth called the American Flag. It’s a tear for all the pain and suffering they have, encountered. And it’s a tear for their commitment too caring for and saving lives of their fellow man! What a wonderful feature, Lord, you’re a genius, said the angel. The Lord looked somber and said, I didn’t put it there.

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wow very touching
very touching.
call me a baby if you want, but it brought tears to my eyes. very well put.
This was amazing and yes brought a couple of tears to my eyes as well!! I think we should all thank a Fire fighter today:)
Ok Dave you hit the soft spot again
Gave me a chill reading that one Very Powerful.
Very well done, very deep and moving!
we gotta put this up in the saloon somewhere appropriate!
I'm not normally moved emotionally but that did it. Very moving.
A lovely story I was happy to read it all the way through.

Then I was offended

Do I possible offend back???

The way it reads is- I am not a fire fighter because I DO NOT believe in the American flag.

The line should have been - A tear for commitment to that funny piece of cloth called their Departments emblem.

Please remember FFN is internation

Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong,
Under the shade of a coolibah tree,
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled,
"Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?"
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled,
"Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?"
Down came a jumbuck to drink at the billabong:
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee.
And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker-bag,
"You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me.
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me."
And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker-bag,
"You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me."
Up rode a squatter, mounted on his thoroughbred;
Down came the troopers, one, two, three:
"Who's that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker-bag?
You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me.
Who's that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker-bag?
You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!"
Up jumped the swagman and sprang into the billabong;
"You'll never catch me alive!" said he;
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong,
"You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!"
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong,
"You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!"
Wow, very interesting and very well written and very moving.
Very well writen, and very touching!!!!

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