An Unofficial Junior Firefighters' Mentality

In all good things we fall. We fall in love. We fall to sleep. We fall to gain the strength to stand back up.  We fall and scrape our hearts and our knees. We dust off our britches, Look around, And once more skip & skip Until once again We fall. ... I can remember Pre-K with Mrs. Bonnie. She let us go to the "big kids" play ground, yellow slides and swings meant only for the second, third, and fourth graders.  Concrete basketball courts abruptly met splintering mulch plowing into a plastic six inch wall, meant to contain the wood chips, but failing miserably. I remember wrapping my hands tightly around the long yellow pole, taking a quick breath and then transforming into a firefighter, spinning the whole way down. When my feet landed on wood I stumbled but caught myself again on the poll, straightening myself up I felt the presence of a newly honored firefighter coming down the poll above me, so I took off, racing to put out the fire threatening Ms. Nancy, Mrs. Bonnie's daughter and teachers' aid. I ran around the jungle gym, with my fellow comrades close in chase. After circling we knew we had to get to the teachers' bench to put out the ravaging flames. Once more around the sharp jointed, filled with screws, playground, then to the designated picnic table, tucked sloppily away at a lopsided catty-corner in the damp shade given off by the second grade trailer. Our captain, a larger boy named Chase, the only boy in the entire Pre-K who was 5, passed by me and gracefully jumped the small plastic wall. Next was my turn and when I jumped it was as if the wind gods were lifting me off of my feet like I was wearing sandals given by Hermes, because I was soaring. Sadly, I jumped about four  feet too early and landed inches from the wall, landing out of balance caused me to need to stumble a few steps before I ran again, but having mere centimeters left only room to wish that I hadn't become a firefighter in the first place. As my foot struck the plastic with a hollow thud, I felt all of my weight go over my hips, and once more I was soaring, face first into the mulch that met concrete. My knees hit first, painfully absorbing most of the brunt. Then my palms, elbows and my face soon to follow, rubbing skin on concrete and mulch, looking like I had just jumped headfirst down a slipping slide but feeling like I'd just jumped headfirst down a path of shards and glass. Man down, man down, I heard my mind call, imitating the familiar words caught from T.V., movies, and the occasional video game.  I knew when I stood there would be wicked scratches across my small hands, protruding elbows, and knobby knees, making for some awesome scabs to pick in a weeks time. A stampede of children was starting to run towards me, and knowing that I had quite the "tough girl" reputation to hold up, I quickly popped up. When they'd reached me I had already pulled the mulch out of my skin and was working on a few splinters. Before anyone could ask me if I was ok, I dusted my bottom off, and then once more put my imaginary helmet on, to race off and douse another fire.  ... We fall. Daily, Fall short of expectations, Fall for tricks Fall for eager to please boys, Fall for less than gentle girls, Fall for gnarly scabs to later be picked, Fall to sleep, Fall in love, Fall to gain the strength to stand back up.  We fall,  but we also rise.