What Remains After the Fire
I was a child when I learned that fire can take the things you treasure, yet still leave behind what matters most.
The Block was a building that held the heart of our community. It pulsed with life. Music echoed off the walls, the smell of shared meals drifting through the hall, the sound of teaching and laughter overlapping. Then one morning, flames began to rise. At first it was dark smoke, curling up against the pale sky. Soon after, fire was pouring from the windows. The whole town seemed to gather. We stood at a distance as the hours stretched long, the heat pressing against our faces, the air thick and acrid. By evening, there was nothing left to save. The fire had consumed it all, leaving only smoldering rubble and silence.
For weeks, the smoke clung to our clothes. The absence was heavy. The rhythm of life felt off balance. Yet even in the middle of that devastation, something unexpected remained. People held each other closer. Meals were shared with more intention. The children laughed again, as if to insist joy could not be erased. I learned that what matters most does not burn.
That lesson has carried with me. When I began writing Dreams That Matter, I returned to memories that felt like fire—hot, destructive, consuming. They were the moments I thought had stripped me bare. Yet even there, something always survived. A song carried through a hallway. A fleeting moment of kindness. The grit to keep moving when everything I knew of comfort was gone. These embers of memory revealed a truth I could not see as a child: loss can take what is temporary, but it cannot touch what is eternal.
At JASPER, I see this same pattern in the homes we build. We design with intention and durability, but no material is indestructible. Storms and fires will leave their mark. Time will weather even the most beautiful homes. What endures is not wood or stone. It is the love within the walls, the way people care for one another, the courage it takes to rebuild when life demands it.
And it is the same for you. You have faced your own fires. Some came as painful losses you didn’t anticipate. Others burned through the plans you thought were certain. In those moments, it can feel like everything is gone. But not everything burns. Love remains. Courage remains. You remain.
The truth is, fire can liberate. It takes away what cannot last and leaves behind what was always meant to endure. The question is not how to avoid the flames, but how to hold what remains when the smoke clears. Every time you cling to what is true and let go of what no longer serves you, you step into a kind of freedom that no fire can destroy. Every time you choose to rebuild on that ground, you are building more than a life. You are building a legacy.
-Jasmine
