The woman and I continued our small talk and when the train arrived, she invited me to sit with her and her husband. I hesitated for a moment, thinking of my 20 minutes of catch up time, and then sat down in the seats she found for us. Her husband sat by the window and seemed not to notice us.

Trains of thought ... Part III

By Geraldine Hawkes

ADELAIDE, Australia -- I always enjoy my train journey to work -- a 20 minute trip to the city and time where I can choose to read, prepare papers for the day, reflect or just do nothing and gaze out of the window.

More trains of thought Geraldine Hawkes is writing a series of reflections inspired by train travel. Her first one appear in Global Perspective July 13 and the second in Global Perspective Sept. 9.

One morning recently I was looking forward to catching up on my reading. Life had been a bit chaotic and there had been many demands on my time and energy. This Tuesday morning seemed like a good time to sit quietly in a corner of the train and enjoy the mystery novel I'd bought at the weekend. As I waited on the platform, I held my ticket in one hand and my book in the other, ready to make the most of the short journey.

Suddenly a couple appeared at my elbow. I noticed that they had just come across the platform from the train which had arrived a few moments ago and was now continuing on its journey north. I wondered if they had taken a train traveling in the wrong direction and were now seeking the "correct" one. The woman smiled at me and I nodded hello. She commented on the kangaroos feeding in the paddock across the railway line and I explained that the local factory had set up a reserve for them within the factory grounds and that they were a great attraction for local children and commuters.

I saw that she had her arm linked though her partner's arm and he was facing the other way, watching intently up the line for the city bound train. The woman and I continued our small talk and when the train arrived, she invited me to sit with her and her husband. I hesitated for a moment, thinking of my 20 minutes of catch up time, and then sat down in the seats she found for us. Her husband sat by the window and seemed not to notice us.

The woman told me that he had had an industrial accident four years ago and now could do nothing for himself. He had the mental age of a three-year old, she said. She had changed her work after the accident and was now a cleaner, normally working six days a week. Her early morning and late afternoon cleaning work meant that she could make a small income for the two of them without leaving him on his own for long periods. And on her day off each week they traveled across the metropolitan railway, visiting a variety of places and meeting different people. "Look," she said, "you can see how much he enjoys this." His eyes were sparkling and his gestures animated as he gazed out the window watching for passing trains - goods and passenger, local and inter-state. Her arm remained tightly linked through his and she glanced affectionately at him from time to time, while he seemed unaware of her presence. "He's always enjoyed trains and now they're his only interest," she explained. Their next train would take them to a beachside suburb and they'd have their packed picnic lunch there. She'd chosen food that would enable her to feed him easily and she showed me the little drink-beaker with its spill proof lid. After all he could do nothing for himself.

E-mail Alerts To receive an e-mail notice when Global Perspective is posted every week, sign up here. Click on the link at the top right of this page to send the column to a friend or colleague.

Her generous spirit touched me and reminded me of the family of a woman whose house I pass each day. Our neighbor was a vital energetic person until a serious illness. Since then, people have described her, too, as being able to do nothing. It certainly seems that way and she also needs constant care. And yet I've noticed that through her situation she seems to be bringing out new dimensions in the people who surround her, especially in her own family. I've been aware that her husband, who always seemed rather self absorbed and abrupt, attends to her in a caring, compassionate and patient way. And her son, who lives some distance away and who has seldom been in touch with his family over the years, is now in regular contact with his two sisters discussing the needs of the mother and how they might share that responsibility. Recently, when I called round to see her, the whole family was gathered there, the first time they have been together in many years.

I looked again at the couple on the train and when we arrived at our station, we said goodbye to one another. As I watched the woman gently guide her husband towards their next train, I felt gratitude for the encounter and a deeper appreciation for the relationships and gifts which can come alive in others through people whom we so often describe -- and frequently dismiss -- as being able to do nothing.