Yesterday, while cleaning, I somehow trapped myself inside the kitchen store, with something still cooking on the gas. Sweat poured down my face, and my mind went into overdrive, racing through the worst-case scenarios. In that moment, I was reminded that no second or minute is ever guaranteed.

It was a frightening experience, but I’m grateful I get to tell this story in my own words.

Thank God for the small window in the store. I had considered breaking it, but instead I remembered I could shout for help. Thank God I had the central door key in my pocket, especially because, before that day, the door lock had died and refused to charge. Thank God for the teenage girl who passed by at just the right time. I was able to pass the key to her, and she quickly called an adult, who came running.

All of this made me realize how differently the situation could have ended, how easily everything could have gone up in flames.

This is my story, and I thank God that I’m here, sharing it with my own hands.