Miss Cathy had gone home to be with the Lord, and although I missed her to tears, I was glad she was not struggling anymore. I knew Jesus had her in His arms where she was. But, she left behind Mr. Tom; so, he let a new lady move in.
My friend/live-in maid moved in with me, and against warnings from everyone, she started dating another neighbor in the complex. That relationship didn’t work out at all, but that is another story altogether that I won’t be including here. It’s not for me to tell.
A crazy lady (who was certifiable, to say the least) was living in Apartment 22 with Mr. Tom, who was handicapped, because he did not need to live alone due to health problems. He was unable to get around well. She apparently started a fire with hot grease on the stove, and rather than grab the fire extinguisher that was on top of the refrigerator four feet away, she ran out of the apartment to knock on doors and ask for salt to put on the fire. She came back into the apartment, that was smoking so much by then that you couldn't see much, and threw the salt on it, then took her chair outside and sat down two feet from the door.
I was in my pajamas (it was my day off after I had returned from my sister’s wedding), and playing a nice RPG game on the computer in my apartment, number 24. My neighbor who lived in 23 begin yelling (which was nothing new, so at first I ignored it) for everyone to get out. Then I smelled smoke.
I jumped up, put on sweats. and a cotton shirt and my shoes, grabbed my purse (because my ID was in it and I didn't want to lose it) and phone and went to stand by my roommate, who had just come out of her boyfriend's apartment to witness the show.
Tom’s roommate sat in her chair just two feet from the door. She was yelling at my neighbor in 23 that the fire was out. She actually acted perturbed. She actually thought that throwing salt on the fire and coming outside to wait for the smoke to clear worked. My apartment manager came out and asked her if Mr. Tom had oxygen in the apartment. The smoke was getting thicker. by now you could hear the crackle. She said it was in her purse.
I immediately grabbed her purse, and her by her arm to force her to move away from the door of the apartment, telling her, "THAT is smoke, Lady! There is a FIRE in there. You and the oxygen need to MOVE." The apartment manager's dog came and bit me on the arm.
I honestly don't believe he meant to hurt me. Everyone was stressed. He wasn't growling. His tail was tucked between his legs. But I felt the pressure on my upper arm and yelled, "OUCH, that HURT!"
Another neighbor ran in to grab Mr. Tom, who was asleep on the couch when all of this started, and brought him out. As soon as he exited the apartment, the dog grabbed him, too. If the dog was trying to hurt me, I imagine my arm would have looked a whole lot worse.
The Apartment manager grabbed the dog and went to contain him.
Before the fire department could arrive, it started spreading through the roof to neighboring apartments. I just knew that it was God's way of telling me it was time to move. I guess I started weighing my options out loud, while my roommate, covered her eyes, shaking in disbelief. "I have money in the bank. I still owe my old landlord, but I can pay him and move back in my old apartment. He done said I could." The apartment manager walks over to me and says, "You could move into 16" (a different building altogether in the complex).
I called my mom, who was still at the reception down the road, and she and my step dad were there within five minutes.
Then, when the fire department finally arrived, I remembered that my baby dogs were still in the apartment. I nudged Liz, my roommate, to help me get the dogs to safety. The Fireman ran to stop me from going into the apartment and I told him, "I just want to get my dogs out." He let me.
The smoke started spreading through the roof to several apartments down. The fire department had to tear holes in my ceiling in order to contain the fire. My step-dad offered to go get the truck and a dolly to get my stuff out, particularly my food and my freezer after the fire was put out. I accepted, and I accepted their invitation to let me go to their house to spend the night, since I wouldn't be able to sleep in my apartment.
We watched wondering what we were going to do. Would our stuff survive? All we had worked so hard for; all God had given us... I heard God speaking to me through all of that saying that it was going to be alright.
I hugged my roommate and told everyone there, "When God speaks, you have no choice but to move on it. You may as well go with it and count your blessings."
My mom said, "We won't have a problem remembering this day. One daughter gets married on the same day other is driven from her home due to a fire, the day before Mother's Day."
My roommate planned to stay with her boyfriend. I just laughed when the apartment manager asked me what I was going to do, and said, "God is telling me to spend Mother's Day with Mom."
I was reminded of the story of Jonah and the Whale. When God wants you to move on something, He makes it happen.
When the fire was put out, I was fortunate to find that all of my stuff was saved, except for the smokey smell. But, the ruined ceiling and no electricity made it impossible for me to live there now. We moved my deep freezer to my roommate's boyfriend's apartment temporarily, along with my food. She agreed to keep the dogs safe while I went to mom's. I grabbed some clothes to wash and went to mom's.
All I could think about was the song that my pastor had taught us the Wednesday night before in church:
Hallelujah, Anyhow
Don’t let your troubles drag you down!
When Satan blocks your way,
You just stand right up and say,
Hallelujah, Anyhow!
Everyone must have thought I was crazy as I sang that as loud as I could, getting in my car to go to mom’s.
The next day, after my mom left her house to visit my grandmother in the nursing home, I went back to the Apartment complex to see what I could salvage, and what it would take for me to move.
When I got there, the Red Cross lady was camped out in Apartment 15, which was vacant, next to the one I was moving into. Six households had been displaced due to the damage. She was preparing vouchers and tending to immediate needs. She was awed and in tears over the way the tenants were working together and helping each other.
All of the tenants in the Complex were helping with the clean up. Liz met me before I got out of the car.
"Here is the deal," she informed me. "You are moving into 16. I already have most of your stuff moved." Then, she gave me a list of things she had yet to do.
I was amazed, and so grateful and relieved.
Two weeks before, she had knocked on my door after I had not seen her for nearly ten years. She was homeless. I remembered how resourceful she was, and what a great person she had been, and that I trusted her with the keys to my business. So, I offered to let her stay with me if she would help me keep my house clean and maybe cook for me, because I had no energy for it after working so hard at the hospital.
This day, I remembered why I had made that offer.
She went above and beyond to take care of me. I loved that girl!
I asked her, "What can I do? I feel like I will just get in the way..."
She said, "Feed us."
So, I went to Kentucky Fried Chicken and spent nearly a hundred dollars for dinner for the whole complex who was helping in the clean up. My recent promotion at work had allowed me to have the money to do so, and I felt that this was what God would want me to do with it. I praised God that I was able to do it.
While I was there, the neighbor in 23 took me in to show me her apartment. Everything in her apartment was also miraculously saved. But, you could see the black marks in the corners of the ceiling, where the fire had already started to burn it. The marks were seen all the way to her front door, which was two feet from my front door. Above her door was hanging a crucifix with a verse from Psalms about God's protection. God bumps. All I could say (through my tears) was, "I KNEW we were covered!'
I received offers to help me move, which I gladly turned down, because God had already provided.
But, the whole week after the fire was a very testy week.
My friend/live-in maid moved in with me, and against warnings from everyone, she started dating another neighbor in the complex. That relationship didn’t work out at all, but that is another story altogether that I won’t be including here. It’s not for me to tell.
A crazy lady (who was certifiable, to say the least) was living in Apartment 22 with Mr. Tom, who was handicapped, because he did not need to live alone due to health problems. He was unable to get around well. She apparently started a fire with hot grease on the stove, and rather than grab the fire extinguisher that was on top of the refrigerator four feet away, she ran out of the apartment to knock on doors and ask for salt to put on the fire. She came back into the apartment, that was smoking so much by then that you couldn't see much, and threw the salt on it, then took her chair outside and sat down two feet from the door.
I was in my pajamas (it was my day off after I had returned from my sister’s wedding), and playing a nice RPG game on the computer in my apartment, number 24. My neighbor who lived in 23 begin yelling (which was nothing new, so at first I ignored it) for everyone to get out. Then I smelled smoke.
I jumped up, put on sweats. and a cotton shirt and my shoes, grabbed my purse (because my ID was in it and I didn't want to lose it) and phone and went to stand by my roommate, who had just come out of her boyfriend's apartment to witness the show.
Tom’s roommate sat in her chair just two feet from the door. She was yelling at my neighbor in 23 that the fire was out. She actually acted perturbed. She actually thought that throwing salt on the fire and coming outside to wait for the smoke to clear worked. My apartment manager came out and asked her if Mr. Tom had oxygen in the apartment. The smoke was getting thicker. by now you could hear the crackle. She said it was in her purse.
I immediately grabbed her purse, and her by her arm to force her to move away from the door of the apartment, telling her, "THAT is smoke, Lady! There is a FIRE in there. You and the oxygen need to MOVE." The apartment manager's dog came and bit me on the arm.
I honestly don't believe he meant to hurt me. Everyone was stressed. He wasn't growling. His tail was tucked between his legs. But I felt the pressure on my upper arm and yelled, "OUCH, that HURT!"
Another neighbor ran in to grab Mr. Tom, who was asleep on the couch when all of this started, and brought him out. As soon as he exited the apartment, the dog grabbed him, too. If the dog was trying to hurt me, I imagine my arm would have looked a whole lot worse.
The Apartment manager grabbed the dog and went to contain him.
Before the fire department could arrive, it started spreading through the roof to neighboring apartments. I just knew that it was God's way of telling me it was time to move. I guess I started weighing my options out loud, while my roommate, covered her eyes, shaking in disbelief. "I have money in the bank. I still owe my old landlord, but I can pay him and move back in my old apartment. He done said I could." The apartment manager walks over to me and says, "You could move into 16" (a different building altogether in the complex).
I called my mom, who was still at the reception down the road, and she and my step dad were there within five minutes.
Then, when the fire department finally arrived, I remembered that my baby dogs were still in the apartment. I nudged Liz, my roommate, to help me get the dogs to safety. The Fireman ran to stop me from going into the apartment and I told him, "I just want to get my dogs out." He let me.
The smoke started spreading through the roof to several apartments down. The fire department had to tear holes in my ceiling in order to contain the fire. My step-dad offered to go get the truck and a dolly to get my stuff out, particularly my food and my freezer after the fire was put out. I accepted, and I accepted their invitation to let me go to their house to spend the night, since I wouldn't be able to sleep in my apartment.
We watched wondering what we were going to do. Would our stuff survive? All we had worked so hard for; all God had given us... I heard God speaking to me through all of that saying that it was going to be alright.
I hugged my roommate and told everyone there, "When God speaks, you have no choice but to move on it. You may as well go with it and count your blessings."
My mom said, "We won't have a problem remembering this day. One daughter gets married on the same day other is driven from her home due to a fire, the day before Mother's Day."
My roommate planned to stay with her boyfriend. I just laughed when the apartment manager asked me what I was going to do, and said, "God is telling me to spend Mother's Day with Mom."
I was reminded of the story of Jonah and the Whale. When God wants you to move on something, He makes it happen.
When the fire was put out, I was fortunate to find that all of my stuff was saved, except for the smokey smell. But, the ruined ceiling and no electricity made it impossible for me to live there now. We moved my deep freezer to my roommate's boyfriend's apartment temporarily, along with my food. She agreed to keep the dogs safe while I went to mom's. I grabbed some clothes to wash and went to mom's.
All I could think about was the song that my pastor had taught us the Wednesday night before in church:
Don’t let your troubles drag you down!
When Satan blocks your way,
You just stand right up and say,
Hallelujah, Anyhow!
Everyone must have thought I was crazy as I sang that as loud as I could, getting in my car to go to mom’s.
The next day, after my mom left her house to visit my grandmother in the nursing home, I went back to the Apartment complex to see what I could salvage, and what it would take for me to move.
When I got there, the Red Cross lady was camped out in Apartment 15, which was vacant, next to the one I was moving into. Six households had been displaced due to the damage. She was preparing vouchers and tending to immediate needs. She was awed and in tears over the way the tenants were working together and helping each other.
All of the tenants in the Complex were helping with the clean up. Liz met me before I got out of the car.
"Here is the deal," she informed me. "You are moving into 16. I already have most of your stuff moved." Then, she gave me a list of things she had yet to do.
I was amazed, and so grateful and relieved.
Two weeks before, she had knocked on my door after I had not seen her for nearly ten years. She was homeless. I remembered how resourceful she was, and what a great person she had been, and that I trusted her with the keys to my business. So, I offered to let her stay with me if she would help me keep my house clean and maybe cook for me, because I had no energy for it after working so hard at the hospital.
This day, I remembered why I had made that offer.
She went above and beyond to take care of me. I loved that girl!
I asked her, "What can I do? I feel like I will just get in the way..."
She said, "Feed us."
So, I went to Kentucky Fried Chicken and spent nearly a hundred dollars for dinner for the whole complex who was helping in the clean up. My recent promotion at work had allowed me to have the money to do so, and I felt that this was what God would want me to do with it. I praised God that I was able to do it.
While I was there, the neighbor in 23 took me in to show me her apartment. Everything in her apartment was also miraculously saved. But, you could see the black marks in the corners of the ceiling, where the fire had already started to burn it. The marks were seen all the way to her front door, which was two feet from my front door. Above her door was hanging a crucifix with a verse from Psalms about God's protection. God bumps. All I could say (through my tears) was, "I KNEW we were covered!'
I received offers to help me move, which I gladly turned down, because God had already provided.
But, the whole week after the fire was a very testy week.
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