While the airline fees predicate a certain socioeconomic class, the train still allows for a melting pot of cultural diversity. But you still need a ticket to ride. It’s kind of like grace- it may be free but it ain’t cheap.
I wonder sometimes if this is what heaven is like, and then I realize there’s still a business class car and a quiet car. Man, if heaven is a quiet car, I’m in trouble. But at least my kids will be there with me.
People seem to fall into two groups on the train- those who recognize everyone is doing their best and those who are annoyed there’s someone in their space. Maybe they should’ve driven their own car then. Unfortunately, that’s true of church people. We can either think church (especially the pews) are ours or we can see they’re actually for everyone else.
It would be really easy to plug in the headphones and watch ten hours of extended Hobbit movies. But there’s a lot to see on the train, and the Americana flashing by out of the window. I wonder what we miss everyday because we don’t look up?
The train is late, smells bad, is crowded, and has nasty bathrooms- my occasional take.
The train is an exciting adventure with new people, stuff to do, and a trip to grandparents’ house (or home)- my kids’ take.
Amazing what a difference in perspective makes. A little more wonder, a little less cynicism. I wonder what our Christmases would look like through the eyes of a child?