Sunday Trains

     Church Sunday had come once again, and we were all up bright and early. The drive there was going to be a little farther than usual, but I was excited, because that meant it was finally time to have church at my friend Becky's house.
      Her home was extra special in that it had a pond, weeping willow trees, and a railroad track that went through the edge of their back yard. All three were things I viewed with a certain amount of awe.
       Church services took equally as long as usual, though it seemed a touch longer to me as I sat there thinking of all the wonderful things we would get to do that afternoon. I had visions of feeding the ducks at the pond and playing with our dolls under the sweeping branches of the weeping willows, and hopefully getting to watch a train or two rumble by.
       After the regular meal of peanut butter sandwiches all the little girls ran to play. Becky had plenty of dolls for us to play with and after we had bundled them up we headed outside.
      Instead of heading for the weeping willows Becky led us behind the house. "We can sit on the railroad ties and pretend they're church benches," she said.
      It seemed a little dangerous, but after she assured us that engineers all go to church on Sundays and trains won't be using the tracks that day the rest of us little girls all joined her.
       It was fun digging my toes into the gravel by the tracks as we sat down to proceed playing church with our dolls.
       In the middle of this we started to hear something. The noise grew louder and louder and we got up.
      "TRAIN!!" the little girls yelled and dashed off to safety.
       My legs wouldn't move and I stood frozen watching as a big blue engine rounded a bend and came directly toward me. The engineer blew his whistle, it was deafening loud, but even so I could hear the screams of my friends.
       The next thing I knew I was being swept through the air and was on the opposite side of the tracks being held securely in Daddy's arms as the train thundered by.
       When the train disappeared he walked back across the tracks and carried me into the house to Mom. "Let's go home," he told her.
       It was still early, but we all went out to the buggy as Daddy hitched up Jim and we left for home, driving past a group of somber faced little girls. As disappointed as I was to have what should have been a lovely afternoon cut short, it felt wonderful being in the safety of the buggy with the rest of my family, far away from any train.