E18

The Fire in the Village

     Rita lived in a small village in Arkansas. Her smile was as warm as the afternoon sun. She lived with her husband, Alex, and their two children, James and Ellen.
     One evening, the sky became darker and darker. Thick clouds swallowed the stars and a cold wind howled like a lonely wolf. Rita was walking back home from the market, with heavy shopping bags on her arms.
     Suddenly, a flicker of orange light caught her eye—followed by a plume of smoke as dark as ink. Her heart beat very fast. 'It must be fire!' She murmured.
     She dropped her bags on a wooden bench and ran immediately. The fire was at her neighbour’s house! The flames danced in the windows. They were bright and wild.
     “Help! Fire!” she shouted, frightened.
     She spotted a bucket near the well so she filled it with water and dashed toward the blazing doorway. The air was hot and thick. In the corner, a spark from a rock had lit some dry wood.
     She poured the water. Sizzle! The fire became smaller but it was still there.
     Just then, she heard some voices. “Rita, we are here!”
     It was Alex and others from the village. They had formed a line from the well, passing buckets of water, one to another—slosh, pass, slosh, pass.
     Together, they poured water until the big fire became a small one. The angry red flames turned into gentle grey smoke. When the last spark went out, Rita walked outside. Her face was black with soot.
     Everyone cheered. “You were so brave, Rita!” they praised her.
     Rita showed a tired smile. “We all helped,” she said. “In our village, we are like a family. We must always look out for each other.”
     From that day on, the village became stronger because they knew that kindness is the best protection of all.

 

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