Pedro Bras shared the firefighters’ photo from Pedróg Grande, Portugal, on Facebook so that others might see it.
Everyone agrees that working as a fireman is a serious and important profession. The photo posted by fireman Pedro Bras made it very clear how seriously the firemen take their duties.
There is a tremendous need for firefighters in the region of Portugal that is battling a forest fire. 1,150 firemen are presently working around the clock to put out the fire and prevent it from spreading.
25 people have been hurt this year as a result of the fire, along with the damage of many regions. Two disastrous fires that struck Portugal in June and October of the previous year resulted in a total of 114 fatalities. This image depicted firemen who, although being worn out from their valiant efforts, continued to work in dangerous conditions. Pedro sent a photo of some of the firemen wanting to take a break and relax after spending many hours putting out a large fire in Pedróg Grande. “After working hard all day and all night, we decided to take a break and relax by the river for a quarter of an hour; at that time, we noticed that the air was thick with smoke.” According to Pedro, the firemen took a short break of 25 minutes to unwind by a river after working nonstop for 24 hours. He said that the firefighters had taken a break at this point. The shot vividly showed the smoke-filled environment. The temperature rose to an all-time high of around 116 degrees Fahrenheit on August 5. In addition to the 13 planes that dropped water on the fire, a number of additional firemen also consented to help fight the wildfire. AWM claims that 160 soldiers were called into action in order to help with the evacuation efforts.
The photograph gained over 9,000 user responses, 1,300 comments, and more than 5,900 shares before rapidly going viral. A large number of people voiced their surprise at the firemen’ efforts. Manja Knofel claimed that each and every fireman in the world is a hero in their own way. Another user from Paris named Sweetie Racch said they deserved “rest and praise” for the outstanding work they had completed. The firemen have done everything they can, according to Portuguese Prime Minister Antonio Costa. A number of them have had fatal injuries. The police had been hoping that the event from the previous year wouldn’t happen again this year. Share this to your friends that FIREFIGHTERS are Awesome.!
My Stepmom Gifted Me a Funerary Urn for My 17th Birthday
I always knew my stepmom, Monica, wasn’t exactly the nicest person—annoying, yes, but not evil. She was the type who would talk over me, forget my birthday, and call me “kiddo” even though I was practically an adult.
But what she did on my 17th birthday? It was the final straw.
It all started after my mom, Sarah, passed away when I was ten. After that, it was just me and Dad. We were a team—movie nights, pizza dinners, and a mutual understanding that we had each other’s backs, always.
Then Monica came along about three years ago. She wasn’t the worst, just kind of… there. She moved in, slowly took over the bathroom with her endless beauty products, and managed to inch her way into Dad’s life, whether I liked it or not.
Monica had dreams—big dreams—of opening a hair salon. I didn’t have a problem with people having dreams, but I had my own, too, and she treated me like I was an inconvenience that came with the house.
But I had a plan. College was my way out, and Dad had promised me from the time I was little that there was a college fund waiting for me. “Your mom and I set it up when you were five, Lila,” he’d say. “It’s all there, and I add to it every year.”
So, I worked hard in school, counting down the days until I could leave for college and start a life of my own.
On the morning of my 17th birthday, I wasn’t expecting much. Maybe some pancakes, a card—Dad was at work, so it was just Monica and me. But when Monica handed me a gift bag, things took a weird turn.
Inside the bag was a pink funerary urn. Yes, you read that right. An urn.
I stared at it, completely confused. “What the hell is this?” I asked.
Monica leaned against the kitchen counter, a smug look on her face. “It’s symbolic,” she said as if that explained anything.
“Symbolic of what?” I asked, already feeling a sinking feeling in my stomach.
Monica smiled wider. “It’s time to bury your college dreams, kiddo. Your dad and I decided to put that fund to better use.”
“Better use?” I repeated, my heart racing.
“Yep. We used it to help me open my salon. College is a gamble, Lila. But a business? That’s a real investment.”
I was frozen. Had they really taken my future, my college fund, and sunk it into Monica’s dream? How could my dad have let this happen?
“Life’s full of disappointments,” she added, as if that was supposed to be comforting.
I ran upstairs and slammed my door, sobbing harder than I ever had. Everything I’d worked for, everything my mom had wanted for me, was gone.
For the next few days, I barely spoke to either of them. Monica pranced around like she owned the house while I sat with the urn on my desk, a twisted reminder of what I had lost.
Then, a few days later, something strange happened.
When I got home from school, there was a note on my desk in Monica’s messy handwriting: Meet me at the salon at 6 P.M. tonight. No questions. Just trust me.
I almost laughed. Trust her? After what she did?
But my curiosity got the better of me, and against my better judgment, I went.
When I arrived at the salon, the lights were off, but the door was unlocked. Hesitant, I stepped inside. There, in the middle of the room, were Monica and my dad, both grinning.
“Surprise!” Monica shouted.
I was speechless.
“Look,” Monica said, stepping aside to reveal a shiny new sign on the wall: Dream Cuts: A Scholarship Fund in Honor of Sarah.
“What is this?” I asked, completely lost.
Monica’s smile softened. “We didn’t use your college fund, Lila. It’s all still there. The salon isn’t just for me—it’s for you, too. And for others like you. A portion of the profits will go toward funding scholarships in your mom’s name.”
I blinked, feeling like the ground was shifting beneath my feet.
“But… why make me think otherwise?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around it.
Monica winced. “Yeah, the urn thing… That was not my best idea. I thought it would be motivational, like burying the past and embracing the future. Turns out, it was just creepy.”
Dad stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. “We’ve been planning this for months. Your mom always wanted to help kids get to college. This way, her dream lives on.”
I stood there, stunned, my anger melting into something softer.
Monica looked at me earnestly. “I’m not trying to replace your mom, Lila. I just want to build something meaningful, something that helps you and others. I know I haven’t been the best stepmom, but I hope this can be a fresh start.”
For the first time in a long time, I smiled.
It wasn’t perfect, and maybe things with Monica never would be. But in that moment, standing in a salon named for my mom, I realized she wasn’t trying to destroy my future—she was trying to honor it in a way I hadn’t expected.
And yeah, I kept the urn. I planted peace lilies in it. Maybe it wasn’t the symbol Monica had intended, but it had become something new. A symbol of hope.
What would you have done in my shoes?
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