You have my utmost respect for having worked as a firefighter for two decades alone.

And with that, I’d like to share with you a poem I found the other day, the author is unfortunately unknown:

A firefighter knocked at the heavenly gate
His face was scarred and old
He stood before the man of fate
For admission to the fold

“What have you done,” Saint Peter said
“To gain admission here?”
“I’ve been a firefighter, Sir,” he said
“For many, many years.”

The pearly gates swung open wide,
As Saint Peter touched the bell.
“Come in and choose your harp, my son,
you’ve seen your share of hell.”

This was written for you. And all you stood with.