Before Taylor (and I) take a weekend off, she wanted to share a post she wrote last year.
Written the day before Thanksgiving, November 2020
God… This film put so many things in perspective for me… As sad as it is, it’s the perfect movie to watch just before Thanksgiving. I’ve been feeling anxious all week. As usual, my worries weren’t very big. Just little things that probably don’t even deserve all the fret I put into them.
It all started with a spark. One little tiny spark. The fire blazed for seventeen days, unabated,until a gentle rain forced it into containment. An entire town was lost, reduced to ash and blackness, along with the beautiful llucious forest surrounding it. Thousands were left with no homes or belongings. At one point, there seemed to be no way out. An “Our Father” was said. Little children were crying. “I don’t want to die here!” they said. For six hours, that’s how it went. Six hours surrounded by flames. It took Jesus exactly six hours to die on the cross. Some were forced to leave their beloved pets behind. They were all lost in the fire.
Never before have the inconveniences of the COVID lockdown seemed like such a minor thing. The fire in Paradise forced families apart and out of their homes, those who were fortunate enough to survive. The lockdowns forced us into our homes, where we are surrounded by those who love us. 89 people perished in the fire. Thousands more were left missing. Oh how lucky we are. How lucky that we still have a house to sleep in, a town to live in. All of my problems are nothing now.
