" The Miracle at Country Life Press Station"

The Miracle at Country Life Press Station

There comes a time in many a young life,
After stony roads and loads of strife,
We can fall into places inter-tidal,
Then hopeless we sink to suicidal.

Young girl sitting by the railroad line,
Feelin' she'd just run out of time,
Body and mind shrieked the same refrain,
"I'm gonna end it under the very next train!"

Sitting down the end of Chestnut Street,
Waiting there her fate to meet,
Praying for that final expiation,
On disused Country Life Press Station.

Just sitting there in a world of pain,
Waiting for that lethal train,
She thought she sat all alone there,
When "Got a Smoke?" whispered in her ear!

An old Hobo sat there by her side,
Frightened her so she nearly died,
Then she saw that as a ghastly joke,
So they sat there quiet and shared a smoke.

A train was coming! But she just sat there,
Suicide is a very private affair,
Her innate good manners, she couldn't end
Her life in front of her smoking friend!

The train pulled up, in that screeching way,
"Better get on this one," she heard him say,
"Won't be another chance." he said so mild,
"Thanks for the smoke, God Bless you child!"

She climbed aboard and waved good-bye,
He wasn't there, she didn't know why.
"Tickets please!" said the Conductor Man,
Standing there, holding out his hand.

"I haven't a ticket, I must confess,
Can I buy one from Country Life Press?"
"You must be mistaken, Child, I greatly fear.
Trains ain't stopped there for many a year!"

She was too shocked to argue the matter,
Her heart was beating pitter-patter,
A pain in her soul like a bowie knife,
Had an Angel Hobo just saved her life?

From that day on she never looked back,
On the smoothest roads or the outward track,
Not once more did she go adrift,
She made good use of the Hobo's Gift.

Young Girl grew up strong and true,
Good friend to me, good neighbour to you,
And the only flaw in her reputation,
Is a belief in Angels on a disused station!

Copyright © Res JFB 26th May 2008

This is a true story that happened many years ago while Country Life Press Station, Long Island was closed, though trains still whistled through!