It was past noon, and I opened the cottage window to observe the railroad work going on outside. It was so bright that I could b
arely open my eyes. The clouds of dust prevented me from seeing the workers and the track clearly. My throat felt dry just thinking about the men working tirelessly under the blazing hot sun, ensuring that the railroad track was laid out perfectly. 2 "Go, bring those men some water, Sebastian," my mother said, and I carried a couple of flasks of cool water and headed toward where the men were working. 3 "Howdy, folks. Y'all want some cool water to drink?" I asked the men, and they gladly took a break to enjoy a gulp of the refreshing water. 4 Among those men was my father, who had gladly volunteered to help lay the tracks. In 1838, when I was only four years old, my father and mother worked as farmers, and every summer, they had a hard time delivering the grains they had harvested during the season. 5 "These roads are impossible to travel on, and by the time I reach the market, I lose half my goods!" my father would say feeling enraged. 6 "Not to mention the river where the boats just stop working during the summer. We cannot even use those to travel," my mother would say, in a sad tone. 7 "That Texas railroad company couldn't do a thing to make life better for us, and now, we will have to wait years before another railroad company comes along and does something better than the mediocre efforts of the previous company," my father said. 8 It had been 15 years since then, and things had improved greatly. According to the current railroad company, a part of the track would become functional this year itself, so we could use the train to travel a certain distance. I looked at the tracks laid out so far, and it reminded me of a slithering snake finding its way through the harsh desert climate in search of shelter. 9 "Once the tracks are laid out and the train begins to work, you can use it to travel to school every day," my father told me. 10 He wa
