I discovered the power of fear when I became stuck to my driveway, as if my feet were crazy—glued to the cement. As much as I tried, I could not move them. The realization that my daughters were playing in Nancy's house, just one-half block away, paralyzed my legs making me unable to move when I neared the end of our driveway. Dense, black smoke was rising from behind the Sycamore Maple trees on the other side of the street and was enveloping three houses, making them barely visible. Nancy's house was one of them.

I tried to call out for my daughters hoping to see them run safely to my arms, but my voice was also stuck—stuck in my throat with no intention of coming out. There I stood; helpless, paralyzed and silenced by fear, unable to protect the two little girls I loved more than even I had realized. Seconds ticked away like hours as I silently said, "Please let them be okay."

Although trapped in a body that couldn't move or speak, I could still hear. I could hear other mothers anxiously calling their children. I could hear an eerie silence that covered the neighborhood instead of the usual happy voices of children. And, finally, I could hear the siren of the fire engine. As the fire truck rounded the corner the siren announced, "We're on our way," and instantly it dissolved the crazy glue that had held my feet to the cement and it unlocked the soundproof box that had silenced my voice. I was free to make sure my daughters were safe.

As I continued down the driveway, in what felt like slow motion, two little girls, my two little girls, ran toward me from across the street. They had come home to tell me about the fire in the garage next to Nancy's house. Not only did my feet and voice work now, but my eyes were also in good working order and had no trouble producing tears of happiness and relief. Tears that could only be explained to two little girls by saying, "Because Mommy loves you."