It was a bright sunny day on my army base, located on the shores of Netanya beach, Israel.
My day had been running smooth, when suddenly I heard a commotion coming from outside the dining hall I was currently eating lunch at.
I saw soldiers, officers, commanders and the like sprinting.
It was then, I noticed that the direction people were running was towards a large fire that broke out.
My instant reaction was stop what I am doing and run to see whats going on.
I started to run, I got closer and closer to the source and saw a barracks ablaze.
People were filling up buckets and dumping them on the fire.
Others were spraying hoses of water in the room caught on fire.
I of course got involved in the help efforts. Minutes later I saw a few young girls with green army uniforms approach the fire, these girls are maybe 20,21 years old and are commanders. As they got closer to the fire, I watched them realize that the room on fire was theirs.
Each one broke down in tears.
Some lost a lot, others lost a little, however all girls witnessed their room go down in flames with things sentimental to them.
It was hard to watch.
It was then that something clicked in my head.
Something I'm ashamed of.
My original reason for running toward the fire was to watch it.
Whereas I got the impression that the Israeli's ran toward the fire to help put it out, and help anyone in trouble.
I asked myself, why did I not first think of helping?
Perhaps I may never know the answer. But I tried to narrow it down anyway, I started to think back to my life in Canada.
I remember when I was 8 years old I was walking home with my mom. As we approached my neighborhood I noticed that my residents of my neighborhood were standing outside there doors. News crews, firefighters, paramedics, and police were on the streets, and caution tape was everywhere. I saw some friends of mine signal me over. The asked me if I had seen what had happened to Jeremy's house. I said no. So they took me on the neighborhood walking path located behind our homes. When we got to the paths end, we turned the corner. What I saw, Ill never forget.
An 18 wheeler truck was inside my friends home.
The truck had lost it's breaks, it exited the highway and went straight into my friends home, killing my friends mom doing laundry in the basement.
~
I remember in high school the fist fights that went down in the school lobby.
Masses would come watch, including myself.
The only people that would stop them were the teachers.
~
It's so cold in Canada for most of the year that looking back a lot of time was spent on leisure activities like watching action movies, fights on TV, and other indoor spectacles.
Maybe I became desensitized to all the violence and action.
However what is life all about?
Growing.
Changing.
Becoming a better person.
Being the best one can be.
& learning from every situation, good and bad.
I learned a great lesson that day.
Helping my fellow man comes first.
Life is not a movie to be watched, life is real, I must care more about others and take greater action when danger is spotted.
~
Building the path to greatness one lesson at a time.
LO
VE
Adam Ezekiel
