[Faith-talk] {Spam?} The Littlelest Fire Fighter

[Paul Smith]

Hey folks, this story from Phoenix, Arizona is so wonderful that I'm 
dispensing with the usual greeting.  So take a break from all the 
negative news one hears and sees, and read the following story, and see 
if you don't agree that it is one of the most heartwarming ones that 
you ever read or heard.

The 26-year-old mother stared down at her son who was dying of terminal 
leukemia.  Although her heart was filled with sadness, she also had a 
strong feeling of determination.  Like any parent she wanted her son to 
grow up and fulfill all his dreams.  Now that was no longer possible.

The leukemia would see to that.  But she still wanted her son's dreams 
to come true.  She took her son's hand and asked, "Billy, did you ever 
think about what you wanted to be once you grew up? Did you ever dream 
and wish what you would do with your life?"

"Mommy, I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up." Mom smiled 
back and said, "Let's see if we can make your wish come true."

Later that day she went to her local fire department in Phoenix, 
Arizona, where she met Fireman Bob, who had a heart as big as Phoenix.  
She explained her son's final wish and asked if it might be possible to 
give her six-year-old son a ride around the block on a fire engine.

Fireman Bob said, "Look, we can do better than that.  If you'll have 
your son ready at seven o'clock Wednesday morning, we'll make him an 
honorary foreman for the whole day.  He can come down to the fire 
station, eat with us, go out on all the fire calls, the whole nine 
yards! And if you'll give us his sizes, we'll get a real fire uniform 
for him, with a real fire hat--not a toy one--with the emblem of the 
Phoenix Fire Department on it, a yellow slicker like we wear and rubber 
boots.  They're all manufactured right here in Phoenix, so we can get 
them fast."

Three days later Fireman Bob picked up Billy, dressed him in his fire 
uniform and escorted him from his hospital bed to the waiting hook and 
ladder truck.

Billy got to sit on the back of the truck and help steer it back to the 
fire station.  He was in heaven.  There were three fire calls in 
Phoenix that day and Billy got to go out on all three calls.

He rode in the different fire engines, the paramedic's van, and even 
the fire chief's car.  He was also videotaped for the local news program.

Having his dream come true, with all the love and attention that was 
lavished upon him, so deeply touched Billy that he lived three months 
longer than any doctor thought possible.

One night all of his vital signs began to drop dramatically and the 
head nurse, who believed in the hospice concept that no one should die 
alone, began to call the family members to the hospital.

Then she remembered the day Billy had spent as fireman, so she called 
the Fire Chief and asked if it would be possible to send a fireman in 
uniform to the hospital to be with Billy as he made his transition.

The Chief replied, "We can do better than that.  We'll be there in five 
minutes.  Will you please do me a favor? When you hear the sirens 
screaming and see the lights flashing, will you announce over the PA 
system that there is not a fire? It's just the fire department coming 
to see one of its finest members one more time.  And will you open the 
window to his room?"

About five minutes later a hook and ladder truck arrived at the 
hospital, extended its ladder up to Billy's third floor window and 16 
fire fighters climbed up the ladder into Billy's room.

With his mother's permission, they hugged him and held him and told him 
how much they loved him.

With his dying breath, Billy looked up at the fire chief and said, 
"Chief, am I really a fireman now?"

"Billy, you are," the chief said.  With those words, Billy smiled and 
closed his eyes one last time.

See, I told you this was a heartwarming story and perhaps even a 
tear-jerker.  It has special significance for me because, in early June 
of 2010 I was feeling extraordinarily tired and not because of the 
weather.  I went to my doctor and he took some blood work.  It turned 
out that my white blood cell count was over 100,000, and further tests 
indicated that I had chronic lymphocytic leukemia.  You'd better 
believe me that I started to take stock of my life.  However a series 
of unprecedented events took place that dramatically lowered my WBC 
count, for which I praise God.  The foregoing story is affectionately 
and lovingly dedicated to you parents out there who had a similar 
experience with any young children who died prematurely, like Billy.  
Maybe you'd like to share your stories of a similar nature, if possible.

And that will do it for today.  Until tomorrow when, Lord willing 
another article will be posted, may the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob 
just keep us safe, individually and collectively, in these last days in 
which we live.  Your Christian friend and brother, Paul