|In keeping with the privacy of our students, I did not use any photos from the Fire Safety Even; This photo taken near our home|
Wriggly children snake across fire hoses woven through the grass. Goggles mimic darkness. Thick smoke engulfs a burning building. Sight removed, they crawl end to end along the hose. An imitation of blindness, they have only hands to feel their way.
Which one would win the race? In my heart, I knew. My little student. The wiry, wiggly body one who sees through bottle-thick glasses. With most of his sight impaired, his senses are keen. The scratchy feel of the hose versus the soft, bending grass would guide him to victory quickly. Slithering along the hose, he easily beat his contender.
Teachers squealed almost as much as students on this visit from the local fire department. Firefighters more resembled the Harlem Globetrotters than the serious yellow-jacketed, hose carrying, axe-wielding heroes who charge into burning buildings to save lives.
My little guy, excited, beaming, slung buckets of water onto a "burning country house" shaped like a steel barrel. Fighting fires the old fashioned way, he lost his footing along the watery path left by students rushing to the "fire" before him. Soaked more than the "burning house", he ambled to his feet. Fireman lifted him to slosh his way back to his team.
|mccservicelearning.org; Google Images|
At another post, these junior firefighters hefted hoses spurting water at orange cones. Drowning in boots and yellow jackets, helmet-clad they plodded the line to knock down the cones.
On makeshift beds, they popped up to the alarm of fire. Following the planned escape, they touched backs of hands to doorknobs. Fire on the other side. Clambering, they found a window, climbed through. Stop, drop, cover eyes, and roll three times. Follow the plan and win.
Lessons learned in fun. True heroes stood tall, bowed low. A hand, a whistle. They walked beside the students. The students walked in heroes' boots. Grins swimming in helmets.
Water sprays arch across the yard. How wet can you get at school?
How much more can you now see?
Linking up with imperfect prose
Labels: imperfect prose