The Bag by the Door

In 2011, when wildfires swept through Bastrop County, Texas, residents had minutes to evacuate. Margaret Hensley, a retired schoolteacher, grabbed one bag she kept packed by her front door. Not jewelry. Not financial documents. She took a canvas tote holding her grandmother's Bible, letters from her late husband, and a photo album spanning forty years of Sunday school classes she had taught.

Her neighbor loaded his truck bed with a flat-screen television, golf clubs, and a coin collection. When the truck overheated on the clogged evacuation route, he had to abandon it all on the shoulder of Highway 71.

Margaret made it to the shelter in Elgin with her one bag. When a reporter asked if she regretted not taking more, she said something her husband always told her: "If it won't matter in eternity, it doesn't matter enough to carry."

She had already decided, long before the smoke appeared on the horizon, what she actually treasured. The fire did not catch her off guard because she had been living prepared.