Years ago, I stood in the eerie nighttime glow of a neighboring apartment building on fire. The tenants, some who were friends, stood wrapped in blankets as they watched their worlds turn to ash. “Heartbreaking” is not an adequate word to describe the dazed confusion of families trying to comprehend that everything they own is disappearing in a blaze right before their tearful eyes, and the only thing they can do is watch.

We silently watched timbers burn, doors melt, bricks blacken, windows shatter, and part of the roof eventually collapse. We listened to dry lumber crackle, kitchen appliances explode, and the occasional creak and groan as a supporting beam collapsed.

Morning brought the distressing sight of a landscape of blackened, scattered timbers and debris coated in soaked ash as smoke wisped up here and there. Families sifted through the charred remains, desperate to find some identifiable piece they could salvage. There wasn’t much to find. They did not fare well since most of them did not have personal fire insurance.

They eventually drifted away from the dreadful scene, on to rebuild their lives, to find another place to live, one that hopefully wouldn’t disappear, taking everything with it.

In time, the building’s owners rebuilt, because what else could they do? The structure was mostly gone, but the land it stood on was still there. It took almost a year, but eventually a new building stood there, ready to receive tenants willing to purchase personal fire insurance, per the landlords’ new requirement.

From the heaps of that charred debris, a few useful lessons emerged. A few rooms somewhat survived the fire because their doors were shut. Smoke filtered through, but the contents of those rooms mostly survived.

As they escaped from their burning home on that hellish night, one of the families grabbed an emergency bag they prepared long before it was needed. Their 3-day kit provided clothing, cash, and comfort items while they searched for another place to live. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Another family previously purchased fire insurance and created photos of their belongings. They were prepared to make a claim. They fared better than the other families.

Those lessons return as we view the hundreds of homes, thousands of belongings, and millions of memories consumed by this year’s fires. Those families face the awful question of, “Now what?” Every family made homeless by fire is suddenly, abruptly forced to start over. It’s difficult to imagine from a spectator’s perspective, comfortably secure in our own homes, surrounded by our collected needs and wants. The idea of seeing years of accumulation melt away in a matter of hours is incomprehensible. Until it becomes a reality.

While we may feel powerless to help those families, we can learn from their loss to minimize our own risk. We can prepare a 3-day kit, assess our insurance and photograph our belongings, and always shut doors to unused rooms (especially if we leave for an extended period). We can also encourage loved ones to do all these things.

And finally, we can pray for those families, with prayers that rise higher than the smoke.