I was so excited the morning my father took us to board the train. This trip was definitely going to bring many "firsts" for me. Once we found our seats, mom offered me an apple as we hadn't had breakfast yet. I declined because my dad had told me that when the train reached Livingston, the dining car would be hooked on and that we should have our "first" meal on the train. I knew that eating in the dining car would be expensive; so when the time came, I savored every bite.
The train ride took 12 hours, and I enjoyed each moment as though it were my last, rather than my "first." The Rocky Mountains were beautiful in the early spring with the heavy snow still piled on the tree branches and making them look as though they would break at any moment.
The most frightening part of the trip was crossing Coeur d'Alene Lake. When I peered out both sides of the train windows, all I saw was water--no track, no guardrails--nothing! It seemed as though we were just skimming over the water. Only when the track made a slight curve was I able to see the engine of the train.
After arriving in Spokane, we immediately checked into our hotel room (another "first" for me) and mother telephoned Aunt Clara, who was in the midst of preparing dinner for us. Within minutes Uncle Barney was picking us up and heading for their home. I'm not sure what I expected to find there, but it definitely was not the white carpet I noticed as I walked through the front door. I don't think my mother would ever have had white carpet. I don't remember much else about that night because the three of them reminisced about relatives I had barely even heard of, but it was an "okay" time, and I thought Aunt Clara and Uncle Barney were especially nice people and definitely not out of the comics. :)
The next morning, we took our "first" taxi ride to the hospital. I was so nervous because I could see in my mother's eyes just how important this was to her. I felt quite proud of my performance that day as five doctors constantly took notes after pulling me, poking me, bending me every which way, and watching me do various exercises for them. It seemed like it took hours for the dozens of x-rays to be completed. This wasn't at all like Dr. Allard's office visit. Then before I knew it, we were heading back to the hotel. There was no big meeting with the doctors--we were just gone. I didn't get it! I hope my mom wasn't keeping secrets again!
I questioned her during the ride back to the hotel, but all that she said was, "Remember, there were no promises. The hospital only holds 40 children and it's full at the moment. We'll just have to wait and see what happens."
Before boarding the train that night, my mother suggested that we do a little shopping, but it was short lived. As we were walking down the street, a complete stranger, a woman, stopped us dead in our tracks as she intentionally blocked our path. She stood in front of me...patted me on the top of my head...and said, "Oh, you poor child." I was totally stunned and speechless as I glared at her walking away. I can't remember anyone ever doing that to me before. I looked at my mother and very quietly said, "She doesn't know, does she?" "Know what?" my mother asked. "That I'm one of God's 'special' children."
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