From ashes to hope 

In Chile, The Salvation Army’s response to wildfire is about more than food and shelter. From the immediate emergency in Biobío to the longer journey of healing in Viña del Mar, survivors’ stories reveal the power of practical help, presence and hope.

In the hills of southern Chile, the ground is still blackened. Homes that once stood on these slopes are now patches of scorched earth. Despite the typically swift cleanup (Chileans don’t hang about), families move carefully through what remains, pointing out where kitchens once were, where bedrooms stood and where gardens used to bloom.

The fires that tore through Biobío and Ñuble in January and February this year were devastating. Nearly 30,000 hectares of land were burned, more than 1,800 homes were destroyed, and thousands of people were left homeless. At least 21 lives were lost and around 50,000 people were evacuated as flames spread rapidly across communities.

Scenes of devastation in Biobío and Ñuble after the wild fires

In Viña del Mar, where catastrophic fires struck two years ago, families are already showing what rebuilding can look like when practical support is joined with compassion, consistency and hope.

In the immediate aftermath, The Salvation Army’s Disaster Response Teams moved into affected areas, working from nearby churches and setting up soup kitchens to provide food and sustained support. Officers and volunteers distributed drinking water, meals and hygiene items, while also offering something less visible, but just as vital: emotional and spiritual care for people who had lost homes, possessions and, in some cases, loved ones.

That response is now taking shape not only in emergency relief, but in the slow, painstaking work of recovery. And in Chile, that recovery is not theoretical. In Viña del Mar, where catastrophic fires struck two years ago, families are already showing what rebuilding can look like when practical support is joined with compassion, consistency and hope.

In Penco Chico, members of the International Emergency Services join local volunteers in distributing food and other household items to families who have been affected by the wildfires

Supporting families at ground zero

In Penco Chico, near Concepción, the fire’s damage is visible everywhere. But so too is determination.

Pedro stands on a plot of bare earth where his partner Janeth’s home once stood. The fire destroyed everything. Now she is living with another family, away from her own neighbourhood, trying to cope with the physical and emotional toll of displacement. Pedro, meanwhile, has been preparing the foundations for her new house by hand: digging trenches, levelling the ground and meeting the municipality’s requirements so that reconstruction can begin.

It is work of love as much as labour. For Pedro, every measurement in the soil is an act of hope. It’s a way of helping his partner reclaim her place in the community.

Members of the International Emergency Services work alongside the local authorities to start rebuilding houses for the residents of Penco Chico whose homes have been destroyed by the fires

Nearby, Carlos is doing much the same. Dressed in work clothes and gloves, he steadily fills his plot with gravel, preparing the base for the home that will replace the one he lost. His old house, built over years of effort, was reduced to ashes in minutes.

Yet in the middle of his family’s loss came an extraordinary moment of joy: just days after the fire, his granddaughter, Martina Ignacia, was born. Carlos speaks of those days with emotion; devastation and gratitude sitting side by side. As he works on the foundations for a new house, he is also holding on to the life that arrived just when his family needed a reason to keep going.

Then there is Juan, who is 81 years old and has lived in the same community all his life. For 40 years he lived in the same home. Now it is gone.

He is staying with relatives, but he speaks plainly about longing to return to his own land. He does not want simply a roof over his head; he wants to go home. That longing is shared by many older survivors of disaster: not just to be sheltered, but to recover dignity, familiarity and the patterns of life that make a place one’s own.

These are the stories behind the statistics. Behind every destroyed house is not just a family in need of materials, but a life interrupted.

More than emergency aid

In the first days after the fires, The Salvation Army responded with what was urgently needed most: food, water, hygiene supplies and hot meals. Volunteers in Penco Chico helped provide meals to affected families through rapid-response projects, making sure support was visible and immediate.

But wildfire recovery is never only about logistics.

Families who survive fires often describe not just material loss, but shock, disorientation and grief. Homes are not easily replaced. Nor are the memories, routines and sense of safety that disappear with them. The Salvation Army’s ministry in Chile recognises that recovery has emotional and spiritual dimensions too.

That is why officers and volunteers have spent time listening, praying, comforting and simply remaining present in affected communities. For people who have lost almost everything, that steady presence matters. It tells them they are not facing the aftermath alone.

And two years on from the fires in Viña del Mar, the importance of that long-term presence becomes even clearer.

Flora still lives with that grief. She speaks of nightmares, guilt and the slow work of healing. But she also speaks of what has helped her endure. The Salvation Army provided her with a new house, where she now lives with one of her daughters.

Long-term recovery

Two years on from the devastating fires in Viña del Mar, the importance of that long-term presence is evident. 

Flora fled uphill with her young granddaughter as the flames raced through the neighbourhood. Her husband stayed behind for a moment longer, hoping he might save the house or perhaps rescue the dogs. A man on a motorcycle saw Flora and her granddaughter in terror and carried them to safety.

The next morning, neighbours found her husband’s body only metres from where their home had once stood.

Flora still lives with that grief. She speaks of nightmares, guilt and the slow work of healing. But she also speaks of what has helped her endure. The Salvation Army provided her with a new house, where she now lives with one of her daughters. The home is filled with signs of care: flowers in pots, thoughtful decorations, small efforts to make it feel warm again.

And then there are the cardinal flowers.

Before the fire, her husband had lovingly tended the bright red flowers that grew along the edge of their property. The flames destroyed them all. But this year, for the first time since the fire, they have returned. For Flora, they are a quiet comfort: a reminder that love can leave traces even after devastation, and that life can emerge again where everything seemed lost.

Some beneficiaries of the rebuilding project. From left to right: Flora; Jessica; Ivonne and Bernardo; María and Juan

Ivonne and her husband Bernardo tell a different story, but one marked by the same mixture of fear, faith and recovery. On the day of the fire, Bernardo was in hospital receiving treatment, while their 12-year-old son was home alone. When Ivonne heard that a fire had broken out near their house, she tried frantically to contact him, but every call failed. She and Bernardo left the hospital in desperation to look for him.

At nearly 10 p.m., still searching, Bernardo turned to his wife and said, ‘Let’s pray.’

Five minutes later, the phone rang. Their son had escaped and had been found safe.

Their relief was immense, but their home and belongings were gone. After weeks of temporary arrangements and bureaucratic setbacks, The Salvation Army helped them access support and build a new house. The finished home includes a ramp for Bernardo, who walks with a cane, and a peaceful patio overlooking the valley. It is not simply shelter; it is a place shaped around the family’s needs and future.

For Jessica, safety itself became the central gift. She had only just arrived home from work when the flames reached her neighbourhood in Viña del Mar. She did not even realise the danger until a firefighter burst into her house and dragged her outside. She escaped with only a jacket and a small bag.

Afterwards she lived under makeshift coverings, afraid to leave in case looters came. Rain soaked her temporary shelter. Rats invaded the area. Eventually, The Salvation Army included her on its beneficiary list and Major José first met her in those difficult days. She remembers his support simply: ‘He never left.’

Now 68 and still making small improvements to her house whenever she can afford to, Jessica treasures one thing above all: a strong roof that can withstand the heavy rains. After months of exposure and fear, she feels protected again.

María and Juan speak with particular feeling about trust. When the fire came, they had only moments to run. Even now, loud noises and fireworks can send María back to that night. Reflecting on the early days after the disaster, she told Salvation Army visitors: ‘You gave me back trust in people.’

Her husband, Juan, offered his own reflection: ‘I am not a religious person, but I have seen it when Jesus acts.’

These testimonies point to something deeper than reconstruction. Recovery is not only about timber, insulation and prefabricated walls. It is also about restoring trust, agency, belonging and the sense that someone stayed.

The Salvation Army’s role has remained consistent: respond quickly, work locally and stay close to communities through both emergency relief and recovery.

Continuing response in the community. Clockwise from top left: : the local volunteer team; preparing food; delivering food and supplies to families.

Walking with communities for the long term

Chile has faced repeated wildfire disasters in recent years. The country’s geography, climate pressures and long-term drought have made many communities increasingly vulnerable. In that context, The Salvation Army’s role has remained consistent: respond quickly, work locally and stay close to communities through both emergency relief and recovery.

In Biobío today, that means soup kitchens, water, food parcels and practical support for families beginning again. It means volunteers serving meals and officers offering prayer and comfort amid trauma. It means helping people lay the groundwork for homes that can rise where others were lost.

In Viña del Mar, it means something equally important: showing that recovery is possible, even if life is never quite the same as before.

Flora still grieves. María still startles at loud noises. Jessica still remembers the terror of being pulled from her home. But each of them now has a place of safety. Each has experienced the steady, practical compassion of people who did more than arrive in the crisis; they remained through the aftermath.

And perhaps that is what stands out most clearly in Chile: The Salvation Army is not only helping families survive disaster. It is walking with them from ashes toward hope.

Footnotes
The editor would like to thank Noelia Pintos, Development Officer (South America West), Major José, Personnel Officer (South America West), Captain Roberto Arias, Juana Almonacid (volunteer), Andrea Enriques (volunteer), Damaris Frick, International Emergency Services Director and all the beneficiaries and volunteers who contributed to this article. 

To watch video interviews with people affected by the wildfires in Chile, please click on these links:

Chile Wildfires 2026:  https://vimeo.com/salvationarmyihq/chilewildfires2026vertical?share=copy

Carlos Interview: https://vimeo.com/manage/videos/1176244246/32012d287c

Pedro Vegas: https://vimeo.com/salvationarmyihq/pedrovegas?share=copy

Officer: https://vimeo.com/salvationarmyihq/officer?share=copy

Jose: https://vimeo.com/salvationarmyihq/jose?share=copy

Juana Flores: https://vimeo.com/salvationarmyihq/juanafloresandreaenriquez?share=copy

Noelia: https://vimeo.com/salvationarmyihq/noelia?share=copy (In English)