Like thousands around the world, I watched in sorrow as the 850-year-old Notre Dame Cathedral was engulfed in flames. The church is an icon for Catholics around the world, and especially the French.

Fire has caused some sorrow in my family, and watching helplessly as those flames in France seemed to gut the cathedral brought back memories.

Many years ago, I was visiting my grandparents. My grandfather sat by a big picture window in their library because he could see all the way down the hill by their house.

One evening, the house across the corner was on fire. He sat there calmly, watching the flames dance across the night sky.

“That’s some fire,” I said to him.

“Yes, I don’t think they can save it,” he said.

My aunt burst into the room, crying.

“Dad, your house is on fire,” she said between gulps of air.

“I know,” he said and continued looking out the window.

“You own that house?” I asked him. He told me he did. I asked how he could remain so calm.

“What’re you going to do,” he replied. “It is what it is.”

I’ve never forgotten how quiet my grandfather was as something he owned was destroyed right before his eyes.

He taught me an invaluable lesson – remain calm in an emergency and understand and accept when things are out of your control.

The second fire happened at a cabin we have in the woods. My husband was spending the night out there, and I got a call in the morning.

“There was a fire here,” he said. “But I’m okay.”

Fire fighters were quick to respond, but one section of the cabin was destroyed.              We finally figured out that flames had seeped out between the back of the fireplace and the wall.

We had no idea the structure had shifted to allow that to happen, and it was a good thing my husband saw what was happening and could call the firefighters out.

It took months to repair the damage at our cabin, but I was so grateful and thankful that my husband wasn’t injured in the blaze.

Our last run in with fire happened last summer. My husband called and quietly explained that our son’s 50-year-old house had burned to the ground.

Nobody was living there at the time, and the house had burned so fiercely and quickly, there wasn’t enough left to rebuild, much less run an investigation.

All I could do was cry.

After I calmed down, my husband convinced me that our son could have a fresh start with a new house.

A fire takes everything in its path – furniture, clothing, pictures, a feeling of safety, but you pick yourself up and go forward.

My grandfather was able to save most of the house and rent it out again. We rebuilt our cabin, and our son has started rebuilding his home. France has vowed to rebuild Notre Dame, and donations started pouring in from every nation on earth even before the flames were extinguished.

The morning after the fire at Notre Dame, a gold cross remained standing and seemingly untouched by the intense heat and flames.

People are saying the cross is a symbol of hope and, watching the light illuminate that simple cross, I believe they’re right.

Amidst the ashes, that simple gold cross is a sign that even though fire can destroy structures, the really important parts of life, the intangibles like faith and hope, cannot be destroyed.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.