My daughter picked out the video There Goes a Train from the library today. The narrator begins the video by reminding kids that it is both illegal and extremely dangerous to play on railroad tracks. Which brought back the following memory...
I lived on a major street (on an isthmus) growing up, which always seemed noisy with car, truck and bus traffic. We were also in the flight path towards the airport and were frequently deafened by incoming planes. One block from my house, across the double three-lane road we lived on, was a railroad track. One direction led towards the library; the other direction led towards the post office and the Stop-N-Go. I spent a lot of time going to these places, it seemed, and even if I were just out for a walk, I tended up end up at the tracks.
I had a special spot along the tracks; I called it Trinity. It was a few wooden ties that looked to me like a little seating area. It was off to the side, surrounded by the purple granite that covered all the track area, but near a dirt path (which tells me there were a lot of other illegal track walkers). It was quiet there, at least when there were no trains! I came there to think, and to long for good things. It wasn't like I set out to try to do these things, but something about that spot made it seem to me that was what it was for.
Train tracks spoke to me of going somewhere. I knew the little stretch near my house, but I knew those tracks went on in both directions. As I think about it now, the tracks gave me a sense of connection with people I couldn't see.
It really makes me sort of marvel at the workings of God in a 9 or 10 or 11 year old child's heart. And I marvel at the power of memory; I hadn't thought about "Trinity" in years and years.