My little MIRACLE

After a horrific blaze, Amanda Stephenson will never forget how lucky she is to still have her son

- ASHLEIGH PAGE, CANDICE FERNANDEZ.

Christmas is a time to reflect. The end of the year sparks the desire to look back and feel grateful for what we have, and look towards a brighter future. Each Christmas, I feel ever thankful that my precious boy Alex is still with us - because, as hard as it is to think back to what happened in December 2016, it really is a miracle that he survived.

Our day had started off in its rather ordinary way. Alex, then two, and I had just dropped his big sisters, Alyssa, then nine, and Rachel, six, my girls from a previous relationship, off at school.

Alex's dad, Jacob, then 26, was at work as a mechanic, and back at home, it was just the two of us. We had pet rabbits and chickens in our garden, and our morning routine was to feed them after the school run, so Alex and I headed outside.

As I poked my head in the rabbit hutch to give them some food, Alex went toddling off.

He was only small, so I didn't think he'd get very far, but it's a mistake that I'd come to torture myself with for years after - even now. Seconds later, an agonising shriek pierced the air, coming from the garage.

I threw the rabbits' food bowl down and ran across the garden. Smoke was billowing out the garage door, and when I stepped inside, a wave of heat hit me. It was on fire.

Acting on instinct

Adrenaline was pumping through me by this point. It's as though I went into autopilot, not allowing myself time to think because in doing so, panic and fear would have just delayed me. I spotted Alex in the middle of the garage on the floor, his body engulfed in flames. I ran through the blistering heat of the fire - the flames licking my skin, my shoe catching on fireto scoop him up in my arms, before sprinting as fast as I could through the adjoining door into our kitchen.