I feel badly for the people in Alberta and British Columbia facing the wrath of the hundreds of fires still burning out of control. Can you imagine the feeling of helplessly watching your home — or even entire community — burn to the ground without being able to do anything?

Our house burned down when I was in grade school, so I can empathize on some basic level.

I was sitting at my desk playing with the computer (go figure). I distinctly remember being surprised at the sight of thick black smoke along the ceiling; there was no noticeable smell. By the time I realized what was happening the kitchen — and my exit route — was entirely engulfed in flames.

My mother and sister were out shopping, so they were presumably safe. Our cat and dog, however, were nowhere to be found. The dog eventually emerged from hiding, but the cat refused… Maverick and I made our escape through the window and into the front yard.

It was undeniably peculiar to stand on the sidewalk with neighbors to watch a building burning. More-so because I knew exactly what was inside and could visualize the details progressing flames. “The kitchen is on fire” was actually “the letter-holder on the far wall is burning. My report card is in there.”

The next day we found the cat under a bed, killed either by smoke or heat. Looters had tried but seemingly failed to break in to the front of the house (damaged only by heavy smoke and water). The rest of the details are foggy, but I remember being disoriented about the future. I also remember people being extremely generous and concerned.

So, to the people that are now affected by these fires, I say to you that things will eventually work out. It’s slim comfort now, but so long as everyone escapes alive, you’re lucky.