Hadley Harvey, 9th, Roosevelt High School, IA, (Non-:iction

Hadley Harvey, 9th, Roosevelt High School, IA, (Non-fiction)

"The Train Ride"

It was the summer of 2012. I was five at the time. My dad has been in the Army for 28 years, and by now, I was used to it. The leaving and abrupt returns. The little time we got to spend together, but that brief time spent I truly enjoyed. It was hard for me, but for my sister, it was even more challenging. Although she had been used to it ever since the age of one. Before I was born, she went over a full year without my dad while he was in Afghanistan, and he ended up missing her third birthday. To this day she still holds a lighthearted grudge. I remember my mom telling us stories of Dad singing my sister to bed on the phone, and her throwing tantrums about missing Dad. As she got older, she realized the seriousness of the military. She came to appreciate the hardships that our mom combated. Balancing work, two girls, and everything else she had to deal with on a regular basis. Once I came into this world, I started as a kvetcher, but my sister taught me to be grateful and appreciative that Dad is still here, and that we had the opportunity to see him. My dad has served in Afghanistan, South Korea, Canada, and many places around the country. After I was born, I remember when my dad worked in Omaha for a year. He would travel there on weekdays and come back home to Des Moines on the weekends. My favorite thing was when he came home on Friday nights while Hannah and I would be watching a movie. He would come through the door, and Hannah and I would drop everything to run and give him the biggest hug we could fathom. It was a delightful weekly routine. However, the most perspective-changing and sublime thing that possibly could've occurred during this time was the train ride to see my dad. In that era, all that would happen is Dad’s weekly visits to us, but this was a chance for us to go see him. We drove to Detroit to visit our grandparents and stayed at my grandparents' house as always. Dad had annual training, and this year it was stationed in Illinois. It was always the plan for everyone to head to Illinois after the Detroit visit to our grandparents. The only downside was my mom hated driving in the truck. She hated the long back end of the truck and the cramped interior. She hated the clutter that always built up on road trips, and she hated having to park it, and yelling over the diesel engine while in drive-throughs. I was glad she hated that truck so much. If she had not, I would not have experienced that occult train ride. In the end my dad drove down to Illinois by himself, and my mom, sister, and I took the train to join him later. It was my first and only train ride and was probably the most memorable part of my dad being in the Army, other than him working at the Pentagon. What made it more exciting was this was something I was a part of. Usually, when it comes to Army stories, it involves Dad, Hannah, or Mom. Little did those stories include me since my dad was gradually departing the Army when I was born. When we got to the train

station, I vividly remember buying the tickets that very day, shortly before the train got there. It was a little wait for the train to come, at least in my mind. I don't remember getting on the train as much as the train ride itself. When we did get on the train, there were two columns with two seats in each column. That meant my sister and I sat in one column while my mom sat in the column across in the aisle seat like me. My sister got the window seat due to her being the oldest, and although I did not mind then, I wish I got the chance to look outside the windows and truly experience the puissant moment better.

The outside view was indecipherable on both sides of me, but that never impeded the enjoyment of the train. We set up our portable DVD player and started watching "Barbie and the Diamond Castle." I remember fighting over the disfigured earbuds with my sister. I wanted to have the right earbud even though the person on the right side must have the left or the string will get tangled. We caused the most commotion two girls on a train could cause. For most of the train ride the focus was a movie and snacks. My mom had packed sandwiches, juice, carrots, chips, and other delectable yet straightforward foods to survive the train ride. The train ride was about 14 hours, so you can imagine the restlessness that came along with it. My mom was the first to fall asleep, considering she was sleeping for almost all the train ride. I remember looking across the aisle to see my mom lying with her head back in pure daylight. My sister was second to fall asleep, but she only fell asleep at nightfall. I was never a heavy sleeper, especially then, so it was no surprise I was last awake. I could only see darkness except for a screen's slight glow providing a fragment of light every so often. It was quiet. It was peaceful. I began to fall asleep. After the train ride, everything else was a little blurry. The last thing I could remember was meeting Dad at the train station. Although everything else about that week is clouded together in my mind, the only vivid action I remember is that train ride. I learned many things from that experience. I learned how it took a team to make things work. Everyone put so much effort into making this experience possible and adapting to others' needs. My dad made sure we could take the train since my mom hated the truck. My mom made sure that Hannah and I had the best train ride possible and were able to see Dad, and my sister made sure I was grateful for it all. I learned about gratitude. I learned to be grateful to be there and having the opportunity others might not. My perspective morphed not from one view to another, but it created a new perspective. A perspective I was not even thinking about before that experience. I learned to be grateful for my family and everything I have learned from my parents and sister. As Jim Rohn once said, "Learn to be thankful for what you already have while you pursue all you want." I learned to be thankful for all the opportunities that presented themselves at that moment and forevermore.

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