I was a little girl of four when I was asked by my mom if I would like to sing at a funeral. I wasn’t sure what a funeral was, but I said, “Yes”. I learned later that Billy, a little boy of four, had fallen out of a tire swing and hit his head on a rusty tomato can and died. I knew Billy a little bit, but his family lived way out in the country so they didn’t get to church very often.

Billy’s family were members of the church where my dad was the pastor so the funeral would be there, and I would sing! Many people were already there when mom and I walked across the lawn and into the church. I was beginning to feel like throwing up. When it was time for me to sing, Mama motioned for me to get up. I was proud to do as my mom said because I was wearing a pretty white dress, stockings, and shoes. All of which I borrowed from Donna my friend. I knew that I looked good!

I started to sing and after I had sung a little, most of the people started to cry! I thought I should quit singing? I must be singing awful.

I inched closer to Mama, who was playing the organ, she smiled, so I kept on singing. When Mama and I were walking back home I asked her why they all cried when I was singing. She said, “Because you were a good girl and they understood the words you were singing. It’s always good to make sure people understand your words. With them, you bring them comfort, hope, and faith.”

I have sung many solos since that time and I always remember Mama’s words and make sure the ones who hear me know what I am singing about. Maybe you don’t sing, but even if your talking, make sure your words are true, and might even bring comfort, hope or faith to those who hear you. We hear so much today that is not true. Let’s try to change all that.

Trains aren’t romantic anymore. You walk in and notice that everything looks shiny and bright. A waitress brings you a drink, and if you are traveling near bedtime.she will also hand you a white pillow. You can walk to a diner where you can order just about anything, If you want to be alone you can order a small room of your own where you can sleep in a bed and have everything brought to you.

I believe that is the reason for all the train clubs that have been formed.  If you have noticed, all of them show coal or wood fed engines, and trees, mountains, and lakes are a part of their display, The people who make them are remembering how trains used to be.

I don’t belong to a train club, but I have built my own idea of trains back in the good old days. I built a small town of the early forties, and the train tracks go around the town. It’s a small display but enough to fuel my memories. Let me take you along with me on one of my memories.

I think I was about 12 when my aunt Birdie asked my folks if I could come by train and spend the summer with her on her farm! Anyhow, it was decided and I went. The conductor was very friendly as we chugged out of our town. I was going the 250 miles to my aunt. The train stopped about 50 miles from home and stayed there quite a long time. Nobody got on or off the train but I was glad when we started up again. The train stopped again after two hours, and we stayed there quite a long time. I got up to see what I could see. I saw the men from the train and some from the town we were in. They were all playing cards! They seemed oblivious to time at all. We did finally get there and my aunt and uncle were quite upset at how late the train was!

The train went from Minneapolis to the west coast, but the tracks we were on went to the little towns north of the cities, so I imagine it didn’t matter when the trains got to where it was going. However, that incident didn’t take away my love for the old steam engine trains. My son, Jim and I, built a much more elaborate train scene when he was a boy. He loves trains as much as I do. If he lived closer to me, I imagine we would have built a much larger display than I did.