Christmas Trains...A long ago Christmas tradition at my house involved a model train platform and a basement that morphed into a fantasyland. A miniture city emerged complete with tiny lights, whistling trains and little metal cars. Early on Santa got the credit but then they foolishly sent us to school and we were made less naive. Dad spent evenings before the big day in a basement that became "off-limits" until Christmas morning, a rule that we didn't seem to mind at all. It was always a thrill to re-visit, in low light, that magical city of Lionel.
What I realize now, of course, is that it is much more difficult to be Santa than to just wait for his arrival. It was only after I had children of my own and a few years of being Santa under my belt that I came to appreciate Dad's man-hours in that pre-Christmas basement.
Christmas and model trains, very much alive in that memory bank right up there with tree tinsel and the scent of pine. Thanks Dad!