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Monday, January 10, 2011

AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

In the not too long forgotten past, our railroad trains were equipped with kerosene lamps, lighted only after
the darkness had set in. Unlike our modern trains having electric lights, the kerosene lamps had each to be
individually lighted by the porter, and this he did with a match.


During the day, sometimes those trains had to pass through dark tunnels and because these periods were
comparatively short, the lamps were not lighted at such times: and the people would sit in the darkness,
awaiting, as it were, the light on the trains emerging once again from the tunnel.


On one of these train trips, a little girl was observed running to and fro throughout the length of the train,
very much to the dismay of her mother, who had time and time again asked her to sit down still beside her,
so that she would not need to fall and hurt herself if the train should suddenly lurch this way or that as it
went around a curve. The little girl, however, was too busy enjoying herself, and so did not heed her
mother’s request. Suddenly, the train entered one of these dark tunnels, plunging from the brightness of
noon day into the darkness of midnight. Everything seemed quiet; the little girl’s laughter and the patter of
her little feet could no longer be heard. Everyone wondered as to what had happened to her, until the train
emerged into the light again, when, lo and behold, there sat the little girl on her mother’s lap, her little arms
tightly clasped about her mother’s neck!


How often, we too are so childish in our pursuits - wanting to have our own way, until some trial, some
tragedy, some bereavement, sends u scurrying back to the Father’s bosom.

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