The Givers

As the child of two givers, I sometimes didn’t “get”.
It didn’t ever bother me not then and not yet.
Dinner might be cooking on the stove, or on the grill,
A call would come they’d shut it down and someone would yell for Gill.
I know to grab my shoes, and a blanket if it was cold,
I’d run for the car or van and do as I was told.

I watched many calls from the cab of a fire truck,
The givers helping the people down on their luck.
It was sometimes very hot, and often bitter cold, in feet of snow and sheets of rain,
They worked in all conditions with no complaints about their pain.
They seldom asked for much, but to learn, to give, and for our trust.
As a child of the givers I understood it was a must.
As a child of the givers, I was given one special gift,
Now I take my turn on the nights and weekend shift.

: Gillian - Walpole Fire-EMS, UK