Fill the Boot!

I braked to a stop at the light, and turned my gaze from the fire truck to the fireman standing in the meridian. A red pump truck was parked at a gas station on the south-east corner of Beach and Imperial, while a ladder truck was parked on the north-west corner. One of the busiest intersections around, it was an excellent spot for panhandling but I’d seldom seen it used for that.

A handsome young fireman was standing in the middle of the street, dressed in a yellow, sleeveless jacket sporting reflector stripes, thrusting an empty boot at the drivers. Glancing around, I spotted two more working the commuters.

My first thought was that the government cutbacks had gotten so bad that the firemen had taken to the streets to beg for money to keep their stations going. Then I remembered a similar scene in Phoenix last month, and realized that they were probably collecting for charity. Muscular Dystrophy was a popular one, but I wasn’t close enough to see what was written on the rubber boots they were holding out.

I moved into my heart and pondered this situation – men who made their living rescuing lives at the risk of their own, standing amid traffic on a hot day to collect money for charity.

Smiling, I aligned upward with the Christ, outward through the firefighters to all firefighters everywhere, upward from them to St. Florian (their patron saint), and called on the Light.

Namaste,

Glen