WOW! That was all I could say as I stood there, marveling at the display of toy trains. I had never seen such a display: Dozens of them, running in all directions. Over miniature mountains, through tunnels, stopping here and there to fill up with water or load miniature bundles of firewood, whistling, tooting, it was amazing. A giant room of nothing but trains, running and working. Some looked like they were going to run into one another, but just in time they would duck into a hidden pass and come out on the other side, climbing a steep grade toward a forest of trees. I couldn't imagine what this must have cost, never mind the enormous amount of time to build and put it together.
I had been fishing close to the shore at the point in the lake where this man had a huge castle-like house. H owned the whole point adjacent, on one side, to the boy's camp, and on the other, the girl's. He allowed kids from the camps to come over to watch and run the trains. He also made sure that kids from children's homes were picked up by private bus to come spend the day enjoying the trains from time to time.
He had seen me and walked down to the waters' edge to chat with me as I baited and took a few fish off the lines. He asked me if I'd like to have a cold drink or soda and see his toy train collection. I had seen the house for years standing majestically on the point and had wondered about who lived there and what they did. This was my chance to find out.
The tops of the mountains each had a gold cross; one was of the Crucifixion. One of the station houses had a manger and Christmas scene behind it. Oddly there was a building with a sign on it that said, “Orphanage”. Scanning the room's magnificent furnishings I noticed a beautiful armoire, elegantly hand carved from giant Lebanese cedar with glass doors. Something that puzzled me was the two or three pairs of shirts and pants hanging in it on display. Tattered shirts and pants that were a boy's size. Small shoes too, stuffed with paper and cardboard. The holes were obvious.
Musing, I asked, “There's a story here, isn't there?” He replied, “Funny you figured it out. How did you do it?”