Two weeks ago, the three Little Badgers had a trip on a train. It was a real, honest-to-history steam locomotive. The kind of engine that stirs your blood and inspires generations of future engineers. We had driven, with Grammy Badger, up to Amish country to ride the rails.
The trip was beautiful. A warm, sunny day. Good moods and healthy appetites. The Badgers were so full of spirit and excitement that they engaged other children as impromptu playmates and seemed to appreciate every aspect of the experience. They stared wide-eyed as the large, black engine pulled up and hitched on behind the cars. They squealed gleefully as they heard a conductor call, "All Aboard!" They even did their best to smile and sit still for pictures as our journey commenced.
We were on an adventure, to be sure. Headed out to a neighboring town across several miles of stretching farmlands and countryside, and then back, half-way, where we would stop for a picnic lunch before catching the next train back to the station. Grammy had packed a picnic lunch complete with table cloth and homemade chocolate chip cookies, and we enjoyed the picnic almost as much as the excitement of hearing the train whistle its way back to our stop, the huge pistons pumping, and steam bellowing high into the blue sky.
As we drove home, and I enjoyed another of Grammy's treats (a huge fountain soda), I thought a bit about the excitement of big engines, be they on planes, trains, or automobiles. It's an excitement shared by almost (I imagine) all children. I suppose, for a youngster, a train represents something powerful and amazing, with levers and switches, and almost magical abilities. A plane, too, embodies a certain everyday magic. Sure, a child can read about flying wizards and fire-breathing dragons in books, or see cartoons on television, but it is something to see a booming jet soaring overhead, or a locomotive bellowing steam roaring by in person. Magic brought to life.
Of course, as children grow up, they learn the science behind the magic. The curtain is lifted, and, for some, the fascination continues. But, for others, the magic is lost permanently in the slog through security lines, the stress of a long commute, or the toils of daily life. To draw from one of the Little Badgers' favorite movies, some can no longer hear the silver chime of the bells. And it's a shame. Childhood holds so many pure feelings, of hope, of wonder, of joy, unclouded by the weight of years, of little disappointments, small resentments, and large responsibilities. To find something that brings back that sense of magic is to create a window back into the feelings of long ago, to a childhood perspective.
And I felt the magic that day, on the train. It's a sense of personal history, remembering my own experience as a child. It's a feeling of inherent wonder that I hope the Little Badgers never lose. It's a sense of joy, in this connection that I now share with my children. We, all together, stood in awe in front of that engine, smiles on our faces, and excitement in our hearts, youthful in spirit.
