Sometimes I feel just like the little engine that could, chug, chug, chugging away. Will I be able to make it up that gigantic mountain?
I try to do it all on my own, just like that famous little engine. “I think I can, I think I can.” But I every time I make a little progress and creep forward 2 inches, a snowstorm comes along that blows me back 4.
It is a sad fact that the wheels of my little train don’t work very well on the slippery snow. And the screech they make as they spin out of control is like the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard–irritating in the extreme.
But I must keep trying. Surely that mountain isn’t quite as high as it appears.
It is not that I want to do it all on my own. I have repeatedly asked other trains for help, for a gentle nudge in the right direction. But alas, all have zipped past me, too busy to stop to help. They have their own destinations, their own cargo they must deliver.
So I am left to struggle, alone on the tracks. I think I can do it. I think I can.