The first CPR Intercontinental passenger train arrives at the west coast terminal of Vancouver.
May the road rise up to meet you,
and the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and the rain fall soft upon your field,
and until we meet again,
may the Lord hold you in the palm of his hand.
Anyone who sees in his own occupation merely a means of making money degrades it, but he that sees in it a service to mankind ennobles both his labor and himself. ~ A. Lawrence Lowell
What you leave behind, is not what is engraved in stone monuments , but what is woven into the lives of others.
by Robert J. Hastings Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are travelling by train. Out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways.
But upper in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there so many wonderful dreams will come true and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering — waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.
“When we reach the station that will be it!” we cry. “When I’m 18”. When I buy a new 450 SL Mercedes Benz!”. “When I put the last kid through college”. When I have paid off the mortgage!” “When I get a promotion” . When I reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever after!”.
Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.
So, stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. THE STATION WILL COME SOON ENOUGH !
I once heard a story about a railroad crew that befriended a monkey named Bobo.
The railroaders would play with Bobo and feed him and really treat him nice. In fact, they taught the monkey to give hand signals and run the engine and to even read a switch list and switch out the cars.
Soon Bobo got to be so good at it that the guys would let the monkey do their work while they went fishing. One day the Trainmaster caught the guys fishing while Bobo was doing the work. All of the railroaders got fired on the spot.
A couple of months later the railroaders got a letter from the company. It was a great flowery piece and reinstated all of the railroaders to their former positions with all back pay. It was signed by Trainmaster Bobo.