Last week on our way to my sisters home in Denton, Tx for Christmas we past a train rolling down the tracks along side the the highway. Compassion my 11 year old daughter became excited and yelled "Look at the train Promise!" then sat back in her seat and with a deep sad sigh proclaimed, "I miss our train." She and Promise spent the next few miles chatting about trains and the one that runs a block behind our old home. I did not think much of it till this morning.
While taking my morning walk enjoying the crisp winter air, the only sounds were the birds chirping finding their breakfast & cars humming down the main road as people rushed off to work, and I alone deep in my own thoughts then I heard it "Our Train". Two miles is the distance from our new home and old. The train track is one block behind the old house. I could hear the whistle blowing and in my mind went back to sweeter days I had forgotten.
Promise always loved the train, she would hear it long before anyone else. I remember her being around 2 years old she would stop, tilt her head break into a huge grin, the run to the back bed room climb up on the bed and duck under the blinds the there she would sit till the last car clicked by. Once Compassion was old enough to get around a play with Promise, Promise would drag her along in this little ritual pushing her up on the bed before climbing up her self. If they were in the back yard they would stand at the fence and watch chattering away in their own special sister talk about it.
Then were the days when Todd would say, "Quick lets go meet the train!" he would pick up the baby, Compassion I would grab Promise's hand and with Patience running along side we would all race down to the end of the block to stand and watch the train roll by, click clack, click, clack counting the cars. The engineer would see us wave and give the whistle an extra tug. Then after last car rolled by we would walk home laughing and talking, Compassion swinging between our hands, Promise slowly walking behind picking up every "flower" weed she could find and Patience skipping ahead, with me telling her to get out of the middle of the road and Todd telling me not to worry she will be fine. Making sweet memories together as a family.
The girls never really paid attention to any other trains, just the ones that ran on that track. I never really thought about it much until last week when Compassion's deep sigh and sad voice told me how special it was to them. It is more than the train, it was home, comfort, love, and family. A time when the world was right side up and laughter flowed freely when they felt safe, secure and loved. When family was who we were and it seemed forever. So as I listened to lonely whistle fade off in the distance I thanked God for the sweet memory of my family Todd, Patience, Promise, Compassion and I standing there together holding on to each other in love as we watched Our Train.
These days, these memories are what I hold close in my heart as I wait for what God has next for us. The thing about love is it never dies, it may fade, we may forget the good days, bitterness, hurt may cover up the sweetness and hide it for a time but only for a time. Truly Satan's lies can only stand for so long before light and truth shine through. These memories, are God's little gifts to me to remind me to keep the faith as I wait for Him to do His good work.
Kristy Kay Deloach
December 29, 2011
Better is little with the fear of the LORD than great treasure with trouble.
Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a fatted ox with hatred. Proverbs 15:16&17
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