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 am they are filled with the chrome, from the DWI who was on her way home. And the equipment they use to roll back the dash, from a family of 6 she involved in the crash. The brush rakes in Spring wear the palms out, when the wind does a "90" to fill them with doubt. The thumb of the glove wipes the sweat from the brow, of the face of a firefighter who mutters "What now"! They hold inch and three quarters flowing one seventy five, so the ones going in, come back out alive. When the regulator goes; then there isn't too much, but the bypass valve they eagerly clutch. The rescue equipment, the ropes, the C-collars; the lives that they save never measured in dollars, Are the obvious things firefighters gloves hold, or, so that is what I've been always told. But there are other things Firefighter's Gloves touch, those are the things we all need so much. They hold back the rage on that 3 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 firefighter, who work all day long just to pull an all-nighter. And into the foray 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.