So to preface the story, I have to tell another story about when I was scrapbooking at Miriam's house a few years ago and she had some lit candles (!!!) on the table where we were scrapbooking. As I got ready to leave, I set my paper bag full of scrapbook paper on top of the table, it leaned over and was just close enough to the candle flame to catch on fire. Miriam noticed the flames, gave out a little shriek, grabbed the bag, rushed it over to the sink and put out the fire. After telling this story to her family the next day, Knox (age 5 -- who had been watching a lot of the movie "Ice Age") christened me 'Jenn, Lord of the Flame'.
Ok fast forward to this week ... I had a candle burning on the bedroom dresser. I went in to check on my husband who was sleeping and noticed the candle burning low but decided to let it burn. I came back in later that night to go to bed and noticed that the candle had gone out on its own from lack of wax ... there was a little smell of smoke in the air, but just the kind of smoke like when you blow out a candle so I didn't really think any more about it. The next day I went to throw the candle out and realized that the candle jar had shattered from the heat and there was a big black burn mark underneath where the candle was sitting on the dresser.
So, I am extremely grateful that 1) My husband didn't die from smoke inhalation or fire and 2) My house did not burn down.
I'm participating in the year-long Gratitude Project and below is my page for my gratitude book that I made about this incident:
