Love Endures the Flames
Rachel V.
James
stepped out of the door of his wooden house. The hot dry wind rustled his brown
hair. He ran to catch up with his Father and sister, Mary, who were going to
the city park.
“Jip!” he called to his dog. Jip trotted up to
him. James always loved these walks with his family down the bustling streets
of Chicago. He looked around at the brown grass and the withering flowers. As
he held Mary’s hand, he thought about how dry the year had been. “Not much
rain.” He mumbled.
Just then, he heard a crackling sound, and heard the cry of
“Fire”. “Father, is there fire near?” James asked. His Father glanced around
with a worried look. Then he herded them into a crowd of people running to
cross the Randolph Street Bridge. Mary started crying, and Father handed her
his handkerchief.
James looked away for a second only to see a town enfolded
with terror. He saw people pouring out of buildings and running down the
streets to cross the Randolph Bridge to safety. When he looked back, his Father
was no where to be seen.
“Father!” he cried, “Father, where are you?” He held on
tighter to Mary, and guided her deeper into the sea of people. He felt the
heat of the fire getting stronger
and he started to worry.
Just then, he remembered the handkerchief his Father gave
Mary. “Mary, may I have the handkerchief?” he asked. He held the piece of
fabric up to Jip’s nose. “Jip!” he cried, “find Father!”. Jip ran into the
crowd, his nose twitching, with the children close at his heels. While they
wandered through it, the crowd took them near the Lincoln Park, a place of
refuge for the tired band.
Just then, Jip ran back into the crowd. A moment later they
heard an excited bark, and Jip emerged with Father!
“Father!” they cried. Mary and James ran to hug him.
“I
was so worried,” their Father said. His deep voice was mixed with emotion. “Our
house has been burned, everything is lost.”
“But
we still have each other!” said James. “That is the most important. And I’m
sure Aunt Mabel will let us stay with her in Virginia.” “You are right, son.”
Their Father’s small smile gave them hope that
even though the Fire of Chicago had destroyed their home, it would never
destroy their love.
*(This
is an historical fiction story. It is based on the Great Chicago Fire of 1871)
