The Man on the Train

As the train whistle sound cut through the morning fog, they began to roll forward and the young man quickly found a seat. He was relieved to lay his heavy bag full of books below him. Again, the whistle blew louder to announce to all of Paris that the crowded box car was now chugging away, smoothly on the rails. It was headed to the French countryside for the beginning of summer vacation in the year 1890. For the young man it was a time for rest from his studies and preparation for the autumn harvest. 

He let out a long sigh as he looked out the many train windows. The trees sped past, one by one, and he resigned to fix his gaze on an old man in front of him. Leaning foreward to face the old man, he began to study the lines on his face and the spots on his wrinkled, aging skin. He noticed his disheveled white hair was soft like cotton and clothing slightly tattered, typical of a 19th century French peasant.

The lips of the old man were seen moving through his woolly, salt and pepper beard as one by one he rubbed his long boney fingers over a strand of rosary beads. This prompted  the young man to blurt out, “Pardon me Monsieur”. He waited for the old man to raise his eyes. The old man didn’t react at all. Again, louder, ‘Pardon me Monsieur, I could not help but notice that you are praying. Is it true you are praying?” asked the young man. 

The old man looked up, lowered his rosary to his lap and stopped praying. He made eye contact and replied, “Why yes, of course. I pray my beads every day. Don’t you?”

The young man responded with indignation. “Me? Pray? I should say not. I am a student of the New Thought. I do not engage in such superstitions.”

Before the old man could reply, the young man continued with amusement in his voice, “Does a man your age believe in miracles, or spirits or ghosts? Do you believe that God makes bread and wine magically change into the Eucharist? Do you believe in apparitions and those silly Bible stories?”

The old man responded forcefully. Now with a tear welling up in his eyes he said, “If you are asking if I am a Catholic, yes. I am praying the rosary and I believe in the reality of God and his miracles.” 

The young man, moved with pity said, “I can help you be free of this stupid, old fashioned thinking. You see, I am studying science and philosophy. I have learned that the Catholic faith that I received as a boy is mostly nonsense. We are now in the age of science and rational thought. I can send you my books when I am done with them.”

There was a long, silent  pause as the old man resumed his prayers. The young man once again interrupted him. “You do read, don't you?.” The old man, patiently responded, “Yes, when I have time.” 

“Well good, that settles it. If you simply give me your name and address, I will be happy to send you my books. You will learn so much!”

The old man nodded and they both waited for the train to reach the next station. The train wheels screeched and grinded to a slow stop. As the young man got up and gathered his things to exit the train, the old man reached into his coat pocket and handed him a business card.

As the young man looked at it to see if his name and address were on it his cheeks flushed to red and his lips quivered. Full of shame and embarrassment, he read aloud the card in his trembling hand…

“Louis Pastuer, Director of the Institute of Scientific Research, Paris.”

Immediately, the young man realized that he was speaking to the greatest scientist of his day, a man who made remarkable breakthroughs in the causes and preventions of disease.  A man who saved countless lives by inventing a method to stop milk and wine from causing sickness, a process that we now call 'pasteurization'.

Before the young man stepped down, in shame, from the train he turned back to see the old man, the Father of Microbiology, hold up his rosary and smile.