Ten Hour Train Ride

Traveling by train is always interesting. I have had fascinating conversations with people I've met over the past few years. One was an FBI profiler (or so she said). There there was a man writing a baseball novel, a husband and wife on an anniversary trip, and last night, a retired naval officer who spent most of his career submerged. Since I have a fascination with submarines and he loved his military assignments, we had a great dinner conversation about life under the sea.

The rest of the trip was spent with my seatmate, a four-year-old blonde girl from Oregon.  At first, she wasn’t sure she wanted to sit by me. Squeezed between her sister and her mother seemed like a much safer place to travel. It took several minutes to convince her I wouldn’t bite, touch her toy, stuffed dog, or even look at her. I would just there and read my book. So, across the aisle she reluctantly came, perched on the edge of her new seat, and just looked at her mom. Finally, mom convinced her to climb all the way onto the seat, put the leg rest up, and get comfortable. With a little help from mom, and the leg rest pulled into position, she curled up and settled in—thumb firmly placed in her mouth along with the dog’s tail.

While I was keeping my word by reading my book, she began looking at me, quick glances at first, and then longer looks. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I looked at her in return. Then I smiled and asked her what her dog’s name was. I could barely make out her quiet little, “Abby”.

“That’s a great name!” I replied. “My granddaughters have a dog with the same name.” Then I returned to my book while she kept looking at me—checking out this strange lady sitting next to her. Was I safe or wasn’t I ?

After more time had passed, her mother produced a dot-to-dot book for numbers 1-10, and pencil. Blondie glanced at me and I glanced back. “Are you old enough to know your numbers?” I inquired. She nodded her head while drawing a line from 1 to 2. “How old are you?” was my next question. She held up 4 fingers and drew a line from 2-3, then came 3-4, 4-5, and 5-7.  Not sure where to go next, she turned the page and started all over again with 1-2. After each move she made, she glanced my way, checked me out, and went back to her book.

More time passed before mom pulled a note pad from her goodie bag in exchange for the dot-to-dot book. Little blondie glanced my way again and finally said her first sentence. “I am going to write my ABCs.” A huge grin followed.

“I can make an A.”

“That is a very good A.”

“Here is a C.”

“Good job.” It was backward, but it was a C.

Then she made a straight line and drew a great big circle right on top of it. I thought she was drawing a tree until she announced, “There is an I.” Of course it was—dot above it and all.

An H, a P, and “The really hard one,” a D followed. She was very proud of her accomplishment, turned the page and started all over again, only this time I had to guess the letters.

From here we moved on to the game of Auto Bingo. Mom supplied a card with all sorts of items to look for and mark off. Blondie was now talking almost non-stop. We looked for cows, horses, trucks, mailboxes, birds. We crossed off rivers, lakes, and trains. She was very pleased with the great job we were doing, and I was thoroughly enjoying this 4 year-old’s company, so back into my bag went my book, not to be read again—at least not on this leg of the trip.

By the time Blondie, her mother, and sister went to the dining car for dinner we had talked about her favorite part of preschool (playing with Legos), her grandparents she was going to visit, her shiny shoes with flowers on them, and her name, which was a candy. It took me quite a few guesses to move from Baby Ruth through Hershey, Joy, and Peanut-Butter (giggle-giggle) to finally guess Reeses. Bingo! Her name was Reese.

Before my seatmate and her family returned from their dinner, I went for mine. When I finally returned to my seat an hour later, miss bundle-of-energy was anxiously waiting for me. As I stepped around a blanket and Abby Dog, her mom said, “You are her favorite person and best friend on the whole train. She could hardly wait for you to come back.”  

I love being surprised by God. I didn’t need Ibuprofen to keep away the aches and pains I thought I would get from sitting so long. The Lord provided a little blonde girl instead. I had over ten hours to see the world through her eyes as we looked for specific things on her Auto Bingo Card, and saw everything else there was to see while we were at it. We laughed over silly things her dad says, and celebrated her victories such as learning her left foot from her right, how to sing songs even I didn’t know, and writing her ABCs—at least some of them.

As I got off the train along with Reese and her mom and her sister, at our common destination, I thought, “Lord, you are so full of surprises.” That was immediately followed by, “Who knows, I might have unknowingly been an answer to Reese’s mother’s prayer—a mother traveling alone with two little girls on a ten hour train ride.”

Isn’t God good?

Jan