Adventures with Thomas the Train

Our home is saturated in Thomas the Train right now. Ever since Christmas, when Santa Clause gave Carter a Thomas the Train set, the box of tracks and engines is the first thing that is grabbed off the toy shelf each morning and the last thing that gets put away at night. The Thomas-love has even rubbed off onto Allison who plays in the pretend world of the Island of Sodor with as much vigor and excitement as does Carter.

In the trainset that Santa brought are two Thomas engines, both of which are a little smaller than a larger Thomas the Train engine that we had purchased for him earlier in the year. This week I knew Thomas had reached a whole new status level when I heard Allison and Carter playing with the 'Mommy' Thomas (the big train) and then the 'sister' and the 'baby' Thomas (the two little Thomas's). No longer is Thomas simply 'Thomas the Train', he now is his own species -with Moms, Dads, and kids.

Earlier this week I was on my bed reading an Ensign article by President Monson. Carter comes into my room and climbs up onto the bed to join me.

"Mom, can I read with you?"
"Sure," I say.
Sensing a teaching moment I flipped the page back to the beginning of the aricle and pointed to the picture of President Monson.
"Carter, this is the prophet, Thomas S. Monson."
His face lights up. "Thomas!" he squeals - clearly delighted.

Later during the week we were doing the bedtime routine and I pulled out an old poster from when I was the primary chorister and we sang the song 'I Wonder When He Comes Again'. We sang the first line "I wonder when he comes again, will herald angels sing" (**note to self - I have another story about Carter's singing I want to write about - don't forget) Anyway Carter jumps up and shouts - "Harold! Harold!" (For those not as thoroughly immersed in Thomas culture as we are - Harold is a helicopter in the world of Thomas the Train). I don't think I can sing 'herald' angels without thinking of the little white Harold helicopter.

OK . . . Carter's singing. We went to a baptism for a new member of the ward on Saturday. We were a few minutes late and so we snuck into the back row after the opening hymn. It was a beautiful meeting. I love the peaceful spirit at baptisms. It was time for the closing song and I realized that we didn't have a hymn book. I didn't worry too much about it thinking that I'd probably know the words to the song. But as the song started I realized I really had no idea what the words were. Anthony and I just sat quietly in the back listening to the others sing, but Carter - no way - he starts singing his heart out . . . singing the syllables a split second after others sing them. It was wonderful. :) He just loves to sing. As we were singing our 'herald angels' song again tonight - he asked if we could sing it again because he forgot to sing the last few lines. He doesn't like to be left out of a good song.

Follow the Prophet

There is nothing like a 4-year-old to keep you humble. I had just picked up Allison from preschool and we were driving home, munching on the chocolate chip cookies she had made that day, when she says:

“Mom, Dad always follows the prophet doesn’t he?”
“Yes, Allison, he does try to follow the prophet.”
“But Mom you don’t always follow the prophet.”
“Oh, well I try to follow the prophet too.”
“But, Mom – you make mistakes.”

That I do. We had a little discussion about repentance and trying our best and then the conversation turned to dinosaurs and thinking of a good place to put the last cookie so Dad could have one when he came home from work.

Infinite-Power-of-Hope

Infinite-Power-of-Hope