第10部分 (第5/6页)

　the　continent。　We　are　traveling　by　train。　Out　the　windows；　we　drink　in　the　passing　scene　of　cars　on　nearby　highways；　of　children　waving　at　a　crossing；　of　cattle　grazing　on　a　distant　hillside；　of　smoke　pouring　from　a　power　plant；　of　row　upon　row　of　corn　and　wheat；　of　flatlands　and　valleys；　of　mountains　and　rolling　hillsides；　of　city　skylines　and　village　halls。

But　uppermost2　in　our　minds　is　the　final　destination。　On　a　certain　day　at　a　certain　hour；　we　will　pull　into　the　station。　Bands　will　be　playing　and　flags　waving。　Once　we　get　there；　so　many　wonderful　dreams　will　e　true　and　the　pieces　of　our　lives　will　fit　together　like　a　pleted　jigsaw3　puzzle。　How　restlessly　we　pace　the　aisles；　damning　the　minutes　for　loitering—waiting；　waiting；　waiting　for　the　station。

“When　we　reach　the　station；　that　will　be　it！”　we　cry。　“When　I’m　18。　”“When　I　buy　a　new　450SL　Mercedes　Benz！”“When　I　put　the　last　kid　through　college。”　“When　I　have　paid　off　the　mortgage！”　“When　I　get　a　promotion。”　“When　I　reach　the　age　of　retirement；　I　shall　live　happily　ever　after！”

Sooner　or　later；　we　must　realize　there　is　no　station；　no　one　place　to　arrive　at　once　and　for　all。　The　true　joy　of　life　is　the　trip。　The　station　is　only　a　dream。　It　constantly　outdistances　us。

“Relish　the　moment”　is　a　good　motto；　especially　when　coupled　with　Psalm　118：24：　“This　is　the　day　which　the　Lord　hath　made；　we　will　rejoice4　and　be　glad　in　it。”　It　isn’t　the　burdens　of　today　that　drive　men　mad。　It　is　the　regrets