A Fireman’s Wife
A Fireman’s wife, the Padre said,
has nights of fear and days of dread
as she hopes against hope
that she can ably cope,
when the dark visions arise
from their blackened night guise
to tell of the dangers that he befell
when he answered the call of the bell.
And in her heart she hides a dread
that the day may bring a car of red
with the Padre wearing eyes full of sorrow
that say that upon the morrow
her husband, her life, will not return
and her soul will burn, her soul will burn.
Burdens more than a wife should endure
but her motives purely simple and simply pure.
She Loves Him.
Or in tears she will quietly be by his side
that day when a comrade has fallen, has died,
because it was his friend, the one who fell
and did not again hear the ringing of the bell.
She must show him her love but not the hurt that she does feel,
or the pain that she quiet suffers when from his grief he does heal,
or nary tell him that she kneels every dark night
after sunset, before the morn’s dewy light
willing his return to their happy home.
(Come home, come home, oh please come home.)
To the wife, the Padre quietly went on,
I vow the fear and the dread will be gone
when the morning sun comes with no car of red
and he is home safe, safe in his bed.
Show him your love and show him your pride
held within your heart that you feel inside
because he is your husband and he is the one
who does a hard job, one that must be done.
The Padre said to the fireman’s wife
“A woman who chooses to live such a life
must accept times full of fun and also full of pain
as well as times full of sun and times full of rain.
But know that the yoke that you quietly wear
is also a great burden that he too must share.
Be content with some comfort, for it be true
and do not be troubled nor your life should you rue
for your husband though he leads a valiant life,
holds higher than the heavens, you, his wife
and he would be resolute and first to agree
that you are the much braver, far braver than he.”