The firefighter stood and faced his God, which must always come to pass. He hoped his shoes were shining, just as brightly as his brass. “Step forward now, you firefighter, how shall I deal with you? Have you always turned the other cheek? To my commandments have you been true?”
The firefighter squared his shoulders and said, “No, Lord, I guess I ain’t, Because those of us who fight fire can’t always be a saint. I’ve had to work on Sunday’s, and at times my talk was tough. Sometimes I’ve been violent, because the streets are awfully rough. But I never took a penny that wasn’t mine to keep… Though I had to work a lot of overtime when the bills just got too steep.
I never passed a cry for help, though at times I shook with fear, And sometimes, God forgive me, I’ve wept unmanly tears. If you’ve a place here for me, Lord, it needn’t be so grand, I’ve never expected or had too much, and I will understand.” There was a silence all around the throne where the saints had often trod, As the firefighter waited quietly, for the judgement of his God.
“Step forward now you firefighter, you’ve borne your burdens well, Walk peacefully on Heaven’s streets, you’ve done your time in hell.” -Author Unknown