Everyday is a blessing

I was sitting by the dining table and checking my phone when a “BOOM” sound came from the kitchen. I paused, still rather calm. Loud noises were extraordinarily commonplace in my neighborhood, from the neighbors setting off mini fireworks and setting off car alarms to motorcycle engines giving out loud pops that sounded like firecrackers.

But that…was that an explosion? It certainly sounded like one judging from what I’ve heard in movies. I knew my mom had been in there trying to change the cooking gas cylinder and had asked the driver to help her and my dad was in there as well.

In short, my dad had bought a new valve that allows you to control the pressure (like the ones in restaurants) instead of the generic home use ones because the stove fire had been really small. And while trying to put it in place… well…accidents happen.

I put down my phone and got up, walking to the kitchen which was really just a few steps away from me. My dad was closest to me, standing and staring at the LPG cylinder that stood in the middle of the kitchen. My mom and the driver had retreated to the backyard through the door that the kitchen was connected to. Nothing seemed to be amiss, I didn’t see any fire.

A moment of inaction. Everyone just stood still, panic on their faces.

“What’s wrong?” I said, walking over.

“Don’t come over,” My mom said, “Oh God, what should we do. We’ve been burned. We were all burned.”

No one showed any visible sign of injury from where I stood. So I walked over to the backyard.

The next moment, everyone was in a frenzy trying to put something to soothe their skin. Suddenly my mom was jumping up and down, “It’s so hot, hurry hurry!”

It was only then that I noticed the charred front tips of the hair and singed eyebrows on everyone’s faces. My dad and my driver suffered minor injuries on their arm and both were protected by long pants. My mom had been closest to the stove. Her arms and legs were burning red and there were open blisters on her feet.

It was a day of accidents. Earlier in the morning, my dad had fell down hard after he slipped on a puddle.

By nighttime, his leg hurt so much from the fall he decided to walk around with one crutch. My mom’s legs looked more like two pillars of bubbles as her skin rose in boils from the heat.

As we all sat in the room that night, I wiped my mother’s face, looking at the little strands of burned hair on her forehead, “Man look at your hair.”

“The ends of my beautiful eyebrows are gone,” My dad shouted from the bed, “But at least I got a free hair curl.”

None of their faces had suffered even the slightest injury.

“Look at you guys! One in a crutch, one who can barely move your hands and legs! What a sight!”

“We’re sorry you already have to take care of the old folks so prematurely,” My mom said.

“At least I don’t have to deal with the bowel problems yet!”

We got a good laugh. It was, nothing short to say, a day full of blessing and God’s grace

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