The train

I wasn't sure how I got here but it was a place of wonder. Well, as much a place a wonder as an old shack could be. It was large, filled with shelves there was a huge white canvas tarp covering the whole structure making it appear from the outside like bedouin's tent. On the shelves held a wide variety of things that I remembered, books, toys, memories of my life. I walked around amazed. I was close to an open door when I spotted it.

The old dirty hard plastic train I played with as a child. I picked it up and like it was yesterday, pulled it back across a nearby table and watched it putter forward about a foot before talking. I smiled like I was three again. It was wonderful. I hadn't seen the thing in years. I could feel the layer of dirt on one side evidence of having been played in the mud. One front wheel was missing as was part of a back one, yet I would glad had let everything else in this cabin go just to keep it.

I questioned myself, there is a lot of stuff in here; books other toys, photos all things that could never be replaced and yet I moved to the doorway and held the toy with a smile on my face and moisture in my eyes. I wouldn't cry over a toy.

I looked out then as dusk covered the land and it was then I realized the place had moved. We had move not just location but through time. I knew where we were. I didn't ask how but I knew. I was in Judea and the Roman guards in the distance seemed upset. If I left now I could find and meet him. I could meet Jesus.

The toy dropped from my hand as I walked then ran from the cabin to the place I just knew Jesus would be. I never questioned how this could be or how I knew I just knew as much as I knew my own name. I knew I had to hurry. I was too late. My opportunity was gone, the soldiers were taking him away.

It was then I realized I didn't have my train, but then it didn't matter for I had the chance to see Jesus.



Photo by Jonatan Volker on Unsplash