WOW!
Was all I could say as I stood there marveling
at the display
of toy trains. I had never seen such a
display.
Dozens of them running all directions. Over
miniature
mountains, through tunnels, stopping here
and there
to play like they filled with water, load
miniature
bundles of firewood, whistling, tooting, it
was amazing.
A giant room of nothing but trains
running, working.
Some looked like they were going
to run into
one another, but just in time they would
duck into
a hidden pass to come out on the other side
climbing a
steep grade towards a forest of trees. I
couldn't believe
what this must have cost let alone
the enormous
amount of time to build and put this
together.
I had been
running my fishing lines tied close to the
shore of the
point in the lake where this man had this
huge castle
like house. He owned the whole point
adjacent to
the boy's camp on one side and the girl's
camp on the
other. He allowed kids from the camps
to come over
to watch and run the trains. He also saw
that kids
from several area children homes were picked
up by private
bus to come spend the day enjoying them
from time
to time.
He had seen
me and walked down to the waters' edge
to chat with
me as I baited and took a few fish off the
lines.
He asked me if I'd like to have a cold drink or soda
and see his
toy train collection. I had seen the house for
years standing
majestically on the point and wondered
about who
lived there and what they did. This was my
chance to
find out.
The tops of
the mountains each had a gold cross, one
was of the
crucifixion. One of the station houses had
a manger and
Christmas scene behind it. Oddly there
was a building
with a sign on it that said, "Orphanage".
Scanning the
rooms' magnificent furnishings I noticed
a beautiful
armoire, elegantly hand carved from giant
Lebanese cedar
with glass doors. Something that puzzled
me were the
two or three pairs of shirts and pants hanging
in it on display.
Tattered shirts and pants that were a
boys size.
Small shoes too, stuffed with paper and cardboard.
The holes
were obvious.
Musing, I asked,
"There's a story here, isn't there?" He
replied, "Funny
you figured it out. How did you do it?"
"Well, there
are too many things that an amusement hobby
would not
have displayed here."
He went on
to tell me about his early years in an orphanage
and school.
Before he was adopted out to a nice, but very poor
family they
would go to town from the orphanage. He would
see the train
displays in the store windows and parents buying
their children
those as well as other nice toys. He never got
anything for
the holidays except a piece of fruit. They were
always cold
in the winter too.
After he was
adopted they worked hard to just have the
necessities
of life. In school he always had the poorest of
clothes and
the most meager fare to eat and little of it. The
other children
had everything they could want and often
teased him
about his clothes and food.
He looked
at me and said, "I dismissed their actions long ago
as just being
kids. I don't want a needy child in this area to
ever go without
playing with trains or having fun things to do
or a place
to do them."
These crosses
are mementos to my parents who were killed
when I was
small, my wonderful wife, the kind couple who
raised me,
and the kind teachers who helped me learn and
gave me special
treats from time to time when others wouldn't
share and
Jesus who led me to the successes and rewards
beyond my
wildest dreams."
Here I was,
standing, getting the story of this place I had
seen for so
many years.
As I sat reading
the clipping, "Successful Businessman
Leaves Legacy
and Perpetual Foundation To Area Children"
I just couldn't
hold back the tears. He's joined his wife,
teachers,
parents, friends and children.
Author ~ Mark
Crider
©used
with permission
~ Mark
Crider ~
You may email
Mark on the above link if you'd
like to tell
him how much you enjoyed this story.
Background music "On A Distant Shore"
© Brue
DeBoer Bruce
DeBoer
