A Lesson From the Little Wooden Engines

Crazy. A kid at heart. Lover of personification.

You could probably call it any of these things. They would all be accurate descriptions.

Sentimental would catch it. This is sounding familiar. I think I mentioned some of these same things here.

I sorted through our Thomas the Train engines and track this evening and moved them from one rubbermaid box into a couple smaller ones, so I could put them on the basement shelves.

When I opened the box they were in, their familiar faces smiled up at me. Percy in his green paint. Salty with his great smile. Lovely pinky-purple Lady. Helpful Harvey. Gordon with his boasts. Speedy Spencer. The naughty, giggling troublesome trucks. And Thomas of course. They are all like old friends to me. Not that I’ve spent so many hours playing with them myself, but I have spent a lot of time helping set up track and watching my little people play and reading stories about Thomas and his friends.

Memories rushed out of the box when I opened that lid and they tweaked a pang of sadness inside me. How does time fly by so quickly? How can it be long and short all at the same time? I miss my toddler people, but I don’t completely forget the energy and busyness of caring for them either.

My kiddos don’t get Thomas out very often anymore. Although, since they have not seen him for a while, I’m betting they would happily spend some time playing with him and his friends. And I will relish watching them if they do. I’m not quite ready for them to slip from childhood to teenhood, yet it is fast approaching.

I am a lover of children’s toys. They fascinate me. Just today, when I was in a store with my husband, I picked up a set of wooden cookies by Melissa&Doug including frosting and spatulas and a baking sheet. As I stood there holding it and looking at it, my husband found me. “You don’t need that,” he said, and I agreed. “I don’t need it,” I replied, “but I want it.” 🙂 And I did. I would have happily brought it home and added it in with the other wooden food we own. Wooden food that my kiddos are outgrowing! Can you tell what a struggle it is to like the idea of being minimalistic and cut down on clutter, while on the other hand things like wooden cookies call my name and say, “Look how fun I am!”

I remember the fun I had when I was growing up. My brother and I spent hours playing and pretending. (With me bossing. He had to do things my way. Ahem. But it is all too true.) I’ve loved watching my children play. I enjoy watching the bustle of children at play. This is partly why I like the toys. They shout out hours of imagination, fun and games of every sort.

Restaurant. Tea Parties. House. Picnics. Just a few things you can do with wooden food! You see?!

But back to Thomas. Just opening the box, made me want to go find the books and read them aloud again. It’s been a while since we’ve read of Thomas. Even though they’re growing by leaps and bounds, if I would pull out books of Thomas, my children would still happily snuggle down to listen. And I am glad. I think, perhaps, they have a little bit of their crazy mother’s whimsy written into them as well.

Little wooden engines with big personalities. They teach so many lessons and offer hours of pretend. Percy. He was the favorite of my son from the beginning. Because of his green paint. Green has always been his favorite color since he was very small. Harold the Helicopter. Flying in to offer rescues and assistance whenever he was needed. Mavis and Toby. Mighty Murdoch-the strongest engine, yet the humblest too. James and Henry and Edward and Emily. Little wooden engines with so much character.

I reflected about little wooden engines with their little wooden coal tenders as I stood in the shower, the warm water running over me. Suddenly it struck me. If I can feel fondness for these little inanimate objects that bring a flood of memories of fun and of little children, how must my Father feel of me? How much more must He love me-His own creation. He who formed me and gave me breath. A tiny glimpse for me in my frail, human way, to slightly grasp and comprehend a bit of what He feels for me. It washes over me and fills me with amazement and awe and praise.

I like the lessons small, yet huge, that come from simple things in life.

 Things like little wooden engines.