Boomer

Boomer was a steam engine. He worked on the railroad.

Boomer could pull a sleek fast express train 60 miles an hour. He could pull a big, heavy freight train 100 cars long. He could pull it over tall mountains and across wide prairies without stopping to rest. Boomer was the biggest, fastest, most powerful engine in the roundhouse.

The roundhouse was where the engines went when they weren't busy pulling trains from here to there and back again. Mechanics at the roundhouse kept the engines oiled and polished so when the Station Master blew his whistle—TWEET!—signaling it was time to go to work, the engines would be ready to huff and puff and pull a train.

When an engine was needed to pull an sleek fast express train—TWEET!—the Station Master would blow his whistle extra loud. That was the signal for Boomer to go to work. And Boomer would pull the sleek fast express train full of people in a hurry and get them where they were going fast.

And when an engine was needed to pull a big, long freight train loaded with freight—TWEET!—the Station Master would blow his whistle for Boomer. And Boomer would huff and puff and pull the freight train, no matter how big and long it was or how far to its destination.

As time went by, Boomer saw less and less of the roundhouse until he almost forgot what it looked like. He was always too busy pulling trains from here to there and back again to spend time at the roundhouse.

Boomer missed going to the roundhouse and visiting with the other engines, while the mechanics carefully oiled and polished them until they shined. It made them feel proud and happy to be railroad engines.

Whenever Boomer stopped at the railroad station on his way from here to there, instead of going to the roundhouse, the mechanics would come out and give Boomer a quick shot of oil and a once-over with a polishing cloth. Then he was off huffing and puffing again. What the mechanics liked most about Boomer was that he didn't require much maintenance.

As time went by, Boomer got tired of huffing and puffing all day, having to be on time when the Station Master blew his whistle, and having to follow the same old tracks to the same old places—never doing anything new, never having any fun.

So one fine Spring day, Boomer left the tracks and went into a nearby Poppy Field. He stayed there all day. The sun warmed him and the poppies made him drowsy. He liked being lazy and carefree.

He liked it so much that he stayed in the Poppy Field. Flowers grew up around him. A pair of birds built a nest in his smokestack. But he didn't care. He liked flowers and birds. Most of all, he liked not having to huff and puff when the Station Master blew his whistle.

When the other engines passed by, huffing and puffing pulling a train, they saw Boomer sitting there in the Poppy Field, lazily sunning himself, and they felt jealous. But they stayed on the tracks and kept huffing and puffing like good railroad engines. The Poppy Field was not for them.

Then Winter came. The flowers withered. The birds flew south. And it snowed.

Now, when the other engines passed by, they made fun of Boomer sitting there all alone, rusting away and covered with snow. But Boomer didn't care. He liked snow. And he made friends with the snow bunnies who hopped around him in search of food.

He told himself it was better to rust than become worn out from huffing and puffing all day.

Then Spring came again. The flowers returned. And so did the pair of birds that built a nest in his smokestack. The sun warmed him and he felt happy and carefree all over again.

Now, when the other engines passed by they didn't make fun of Boomer any more, especially the young Little Engines. They thought it would be grand to sit in the sun all day surrounded by blooming flowers and with a pair of birds nesting in their smokestacks.

So—one by one—the young Little Engines left the tracks and went to the Poppy Field.

"Don't you feel guilty," they asked Boomer, "not working, not being an engine?"

"I am an engine," replied Boomer, "a different kind of engine. I appreciate things." And he told them how he appreciated the sun, and the flowers, and the birds—and the snow bunnies too. For in summer, his friends the snow bunnies shed their white winter coats and became cottontails.

As he talked, Boomer yawned and stretched and prepared to take a nap. Boomer was always taking naps.

The young Little Engines listened to Boomer. But mostly the poppies made them drowsy and they took naps just like Boomer. And flowers grew up around them too. And birds built nests in their smokestacks too. And they appreciated things too—especially being lazy and carefree.

Then Winter came. The flowers withered. The birds flew south.

Soon it started to snow. The young Little Engines began to shiver from the cold. But mostly they shivered because they saw they were getting rusty like Boomer. They were afraid they might rust away if they stayed in the Poppy Field.

"Don't worry," said Boomer, "rust won't hurt you." And he told them how it was better to rust than become worn out from huffing and puffing all day.

They believed him because he was a big, grown-up engine, and he had shown them the way to the Poppy Field. Besides, the poppies made them too drowsy most of the time to think much about the future.

"Spring will come again," Boomer assured them. "In the mean time, you can sleep under a blanket of snow."

So the young Little Engines all went to sleep under their blankets of snow and forgot about the future.

But before spring would come Christmas. The happiest time of year for good little boys and girls!

Train loads of toys—balls, and dolls, and toy soldiers and tin drums—were waiting at the railroad station to be taken to all the towns and cities in the country in time for Christmas. But there were no engines to pull the trains full of Christmas toys for good little boys and girls.

The Station Master blew his whistle—TWEET!—but no engines came to pull the trains full of Christmas toys. He blew his whistle again—TWEET! And still no engines came.

So he waved his red flag and stopped an express train pulled by a Sleek Fast Engine. And he said, "Won't you pull a train full of Christmas toys for good little boys and girls?"

The Sleek Fast Engine said, "I'm too busy pulling express trains full of people in a hurry to get where they're going to pull a train full of toys! I don't have a minute to waste!"

And with that, the Sleek Fast Engine sped off pulling the express train full of people in a hurry to go places.

Then the Station Master waved his red flag again and stopped a big, long freight train pulled by a Big Strong Engine.

"Won't you pull a train full of Christmas toys for good little boys and girls?” he asked the Big Strong Engine.

"I'm a freight engine," said the Big Strong Engine. "I pull big, long freight trains loaded with grain, and coal, and iron ore, and timber. Pulling a train full of toys is for Little Engines!"

And then the Big Strong Engine huffed and puffed and pulled the big, long freight train out of the station.

Then the Station Master asked an Old Engine in the train yard if he would pull a train full of Christmas toys and help save Christmas. And the Old Engine said, "I love Christmas! But I'm too old to pull a train. All I can do is help out around the train yard."

And the Old Engine went off puffing and wheezing toward the roundhouse.

"Who will help save Christmas?" cried the Station Master. "All the young Little Engines have gone astray. They have left the tracks and gone to the Poppy Field like Boomer. It's a disgrace!"

The Old Engine heard what the Station Master said and a tear came to his eye. He felt sad for the good little boys and girls who wouldn't get any toys for Christmas. He also felt sad because Boomer and all the young Little Engines were sleeping their lives away in the Poppy Field when they could be doing great things like saving Christmas!

The Old Engine sadly returned to the roundhouse, where a mouse lived underneath the coal stove. When she saw a tear in the Old Engine's eye, Mother Mouse asked what the matter was. He told her.

Mother Mouse had baby mice of her own and they all loved Christmas. She knew how much Christmas meant to children everywhere, even those living in an empty match box under a coal stove in a railroad roundhouse.

"Can't you pull a train full of Christmas toys? Can't you help save Christmas?" she asked.

"I'm too old," said the Old Engine. "Besides, I haven't been out of the train yard in a long time. I'm not sure I could find my way even with tracks to follow!"

Just then, Mother Mouse got an idea. She hurried off in search of a snow bunny she knew. She found him foraging for food under some cars filled with grain.

"Do you know Boomer, the steam engine?" she asked.

"Yes," said the Snow Bunny. "He lives in the Poppy Field and sleeps most of the time."

"That's him!" cried Mother Mouse. "Could you tell me how to get to the Poppy Field?"

So the Snow Bunny told Mother Mouse how to get to the Poppy Field.

"Oh, dear," she said disheartenedly. "The snow is deep and it's a long way to the Poppy Field and I'm just a little mouse. How will I ever get there in time?"

"In time for what?" asked the Snow Bunny.

Mother Mouse told the Snow Bunny about all the good little boys and girls who would be disappointed at Christmas because there weren't any engines to pull the trains full of Christmas toys.

"That's too bad," said the Snow Bunny. "Is there anything I can do to help?" The Snow Bunny liked doing important things.

"You could give me a ride to where Boomer and the young Little Engines live in the Poppy Field," Mother Mouse said hopefully.

"All right," said the Snow Bunny. "Climb on my back."

So Mother Mouse climbed on the Snow Bunny's back and together they hippity-hopped to the Poppy Field. They found Boomer fast asleep under a blanked of snow.

"How will we wake him up?" asked Mother Mouse.

"I know," said the Snow Bunny and he hopped up on top of the steam engine and thumped on the boiler with his foot. The boiler was empty and sounded like a big drum when the Snow Bunny thumped it with his foot. The sound woke Boomer up.

Boomer yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Why did you wake me up?" he said irritably. "I was fast asleep and it isn't even Spring yet!"

Mother Mouse told Boomer there were no engines to pull the trains full of Christmas toys.

"Are you sure?" asked Boomer.

"The Old Engine told me," she replied.

Boomer knew the Old Engine loved Christmas. He carried the ladders and the strings of Christmas lights for the mechanics when they decorated the roundhouse at Christmas time. The Old Engine knew all about Christmas at the train yard.

"Won't you help save Christmas?" asked the Snow Bunny. Like all bunnies, the Snow Bunny loved Christmas almost as much as Easter. He also liked good little boys and girls and he wanted them to have a happy Christmas.

Boomer loved Christmas too. And he liked good little boys and girls too. And he wanted them to have a happy Christmas too. He had just sort of forgotten how much he loved Christmas while he was asleep in the Poppy Field.

"Won't you help save Christmas?" pleaded Mother Mouse.

"Yes!" cried Boomer and he shook off his blanket of snow. Because he was stiff and rusty from inactivity, he squeaked and groaned when he shook. But it felt good to be active again.

All the noise Boomer made shaking off his blanket of snow woke up the young Little Engines asleep around him.

“What's happened?” they asked. “Is it Springtime?”

“No,” said Boomer. “It won't be Spring for several months.”

“Then why did you wake us up?” they asked irritably.

"Because I was wrong," he said. "It isn't better to rust in the Poppy Field than huff and puff all day."

"What about appreciating things?" asked a Little Engine, yawning sleepily.

"Everyone appreciates children's happy faces at Christmas time," said Boomer.

"And Christmas dinner with all the trimmings!" cried a fat little Puffer Billy.

"And lots of shiny presents under a brightly lit Christmas tree!" cried a second Little Engine.

"And the joyous Christmas spirit!" cried a third Little Engine.

The fat little Puffer Billy wasn't sleepy any more. His eyes were as big and bright as the eyes of good little boys and girls on Christmas morning. "What are we waiting for?" he cried, shaking off the blanket of snow he had been sleeping under.

"Yes, what are we waiting for?" cried the other young Little Engines and they shook off their blankets of snow too. And although the young Little Engines were all a bit rusty and squeaky from inactivity, their spirits were high and they were eager to start huffing and puffing again.

"We have to wait for the Station Master to blow his whistle," said Boomer. "Good engines obey the rules of the road."

Mother Mouse and the Snow Bunny became worried because the Station Master had already blown his whistle—twice—and nothing had happened. No engines had come to pull the trains full of Christmas toys. Surely, the Station Master wouldn't waste his breath blowing his whistle a third time.

The Station Master was about to put his whistle away for good when he looked at the railroad cars full of Christmas toys. All the dolls, and toy soldiers, and Teddy Bears had frowns on their faces. Even the jolly clowns were frowning. They knew they might not make it to the homes of good little boys and girls in time for Christmas and that made them sad.

The Station Master was sad too. He loved Christmas almost as much as the toys did. He wished he could pull the cars himself. But he was only a Station Master. He wasn't even as big and strong as the littlest Puffer Billy.

The Station Master gritted his teeth and stamped his foot. It made him angry that he wasn't able to pull the cars full of Christmas toys himself and save Christmas. So he did the only thing he could. He put all his strength into a mighty blast on his whistle.

TWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET! went the whistle.

The Station Master blew his whistle so loudly that even Boomer and all the young Little Engines in the Poppy Field heard the whistle go TWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!

"Let's go!" cried Boomer. And all the young Little Engines yawned and stretched and wiped the poppy sleep from their eyes. Then they shook off the last remnants of their blankets of snow and started back to work being railroad engines again. Some of the snow landed on Mother Mouse and the Snow Bunny. But the Snow Bunny didn't care because Snow Bunnies like snow, especially at Christmas time. And Mother Mouse didn't mind either. It was Christmas time, after all, and even though her hands were cold from brushing the snow off her bonnet and shawl, no one could be grumpy at the happiest season of the year.

The Station Master looked around but no engines had appeared in response to his whistle. With a sigh, he started to go into the railroad station and send a telegram to all the newspapers, and radio and television stations, and other media telling them the sad news: no toys for good little boys and girls this Christmas.

Just then, the Snow Bunny came hippity-hopping and skipping and jumping. "I wonder what makes that snow bunny act so happy," thought the Station Master. And looking around, he saw all the young Little Engines coming toward the railroad station. They were all back on the tracks, and Boomer was leading way. And riding in Boomer's cab (although she was too small to be seen) was Mother Mouse. She was warming her hands at the firebox door.

The Station Master couldn't believe his eyes. He'd given Boomer up for lost a long time ago.

The dolls, and toy soldiers, and Teddy Bears, and clowns couldn't believe their eyes either. Boomer was so rusty and funny looking with a bird's nest in his smokestack. All the dolls, and toy soldiers, and Teddy Bears, and clowns laughed at him.

But Boomer didn't care how funny he looked. He was a railroad engine and he was doing what railroad engines were meant to do. That made him feel good. And the young Little Engines were doing what they were meant to do too. And that made them feel good too.

The Station Master blew his whistle and pointed this way and that with his rolled up green flag. And Boomer and all the young Little Engines went right to work. Each one backed up to several cars piled high with Christmas toys and a caboose. A brakeman hooked them together to make a train.

And when all the trains full of Christmas toys were lined up ready to go, the Station Master blew his whistle—TWEET! And Boomer blew his steam whistle in reply—WHOOO! The blast from Boomer's steam whistle blew the remains of the bird's nest clean out his smokestack. And all the young Little Engines blew their steam whistles—WHOOO!—in reply too. They were all ready to go to work saving Christmas for good little boys and girls!

The Station Master waved his green flag and Boomer and all the young Little Engines set off for different parts of the country, each pulling a train load of Christmas toys.

The dolls, and toy soldiers, and Teddy Bears, and clowns were all very happy. Thanks to Boomer and the young Little Engines, they would get to the homes of good little boys and girls in time for Christmas. And that made Boomer feel proud and happy.

The young Little Engines felt proud and happy too. Boomer had shown them how important it was to do what you were meant to do, and not sit idle and rust away. And now they were doing it—and saving Christmas too!

After Boomer and the young Little Engines had delivered the train loads of Christmas toys to all the towns and cities in the country in time for Christmas, they returned to the roundhouse. The roundhouse had been decked out in bright Christmas lights and the Station Master, and the Old Engine, and the mechanics were waiting to greet them. Even Mother Mouse and the Snow Bunny were there to welcome them home and wish them a Merry Christmas.

The Station Master pinned a big Gold Star on Boomer for helping save Christmas and the mechanics oiled and polished him until he shined like new. A reporter took Boomer's picture for the newspaper. All the young Little Engines received Gold Stars too. And the reporter took their pictures for the newspaper too. He called them the “Christmas Engines” and said they were heroes to all good little boys and girls.

Boomer felt loved and appreciated as never before. All the young Little Engines felt loved and appreciated too.

And the funny thing was, the more Boomer and all the young Little Engines felt loved and appreciated for doing what they were meant to do and doing it well, the more they appreciated other things too.