A lad, the youngest in the family, went to work on the railroad
to support his elderly parents. He worked his way up to engineer.
Every morning when he left for work his mother would put a
lunch pail in his hand, place her feeble arm around his shoulder,
bow her head, and ask God to bring her boy home safe. Their
crude little home in the Kentucky hills sat in a curve on the
railway.

As the engineer finished his run and headed for the round house,
everyday when he came to the curve he would give a long blast
of the whistle. The aged, gray-haired mother would wave and
lift her eyes to Heaven and say, "Thank You, God, for bringing
my boy home again." Time marched on, and first dad, then mother
went to be with the Lord.

The years now settled in the hour-glass of the engineer, and he
knew that soon he would board the Gospel train to Glory! He thought
to himself that if the Great Conductor, Jesus, wouldn't mind he'd like
to ride up front and when he came around that last curve and approached
the Pearly Gates, he wanted permission to pull the cord for a long
blast of the whistle. He would then look with anticipation to see his
old mother just inside the gates of Glory waving and thanking God that
her boy was Home at last!

There's only one way to be sure of Heaven and Home, and that is by
trusting Christ, believing the Gospel, and knowing the forgiveness of sins.
Do you have this asurance mom? What about you son? What about you?

Oh this little story made me cry. I could just visualize that little train rounding that bend. Guess because I have lived in the Country growing up and heard that old train whistle so many times.

When we moved to town here in the city I live now, we lived about 200 feet from the rainroad tracks. We would sit on that little hill and wave at all the people as the train would go by. That was in 1954, when they still had passenger trains. We loved doing that. At night they couldn't see us but we could see them sitting and eating their dinner and the waiters walking from table to table. Such good memories.

We had an old depot there, with windows all broke out of it, where they used to board the trains there, but that was long before we arrived there. Thanks for the memories Mary.

Mary and Judy

Trains are such a part of this great country of ours.I too have many memories of trains and hearing the whistle.

The story made me think of my mom and how she worked so hard on the farm but was always there to pack our school lunches. I don"t know how she did it all! She never complained ever when her hands were red and cut from all the work she did.

Her faith in God was so strong. I can still hear her say "God hasn't failed us yet!" Dad was always worried about getting enough rain for the crops. Mom was a praying mom, a faithful to God mom, a loving, caring, giving mom and would ask God for rain and it rained. As farmers we never had much in the terms of money but we had an abundance of what was needed - a praying mom!

Raised in Acworth Ga. and the train tracks came right through our small town. The train depot sat there ever so busy. Precious memories also of a praying Mom and Dad,and seven children. We were not rich by no means, but God supplied our needs.
Fish in the creek that ran through the land my Granny own, cow in the barn, hogs in the pen, and the big gardens and all the can goods it supplied during the cold winter months. My precious Dad was a long-haul truck driver, and was home on week-ins cutting enough wood to last till he returned the following week-in. Mom and Granny made our clothes mainly from flour sacks. Life was good, we had money to get our basics,but best of all was that GOD was head of our house, and there was always plenty of love. Our family was blessed!!

Thank you Windsofhope and Judy for sharing some of your memories. Love you both.