Train Stories for Kids

Ruby was the smallest train at Maple Hill Station. She was bright red with one yellow stripe, and she had the loudest whistle on the whole railway: TOOT TOOT!

The big trains pulled long lines of cars full of coal, logs and people. Ruby only pulled one little car, full of letters and parcels. “Someday,” she said, “I'll do something big too.”

One snowy morning, the station master ran out with a worried face. “The big trains are stuck in the snow, and the village at the top of the mountain has no milk and no bread. Who can take it up?”

Ruby blew her whistle. TOOT TOOT! “I can! I'm small, and I'm light, and I don't sink in the snow.” So they loaded her little car with milk, bread and a big box of warm blankets.

Chugga-chugga, chugga-chugga. Ruby started up the mountain. The track got steeper and steeper. Chugga… chugga… chugga… She went slower and slower. “I… can… do… it,” she puffed.

The snow fell harder. Ruby's wheels slipped. But she remembered what the old engine driver always told her: “Little by little, one turn of the wheels at a time.” Chugga… chugga… chugga…

And then she saw it: the top of the hill, and the village lights shining through the snow. Ruby rolled into the tiny station, and all the children ran out cheering. Choo-choo! TOOT TOOT!

That night, back at Maple Hill Station, the big trains gave Ruby the warmest spot in the engine shed. “You did something very big today,” said the oldest train. And Ruby smiled all the way to sleep.

Mia and her teddy, Bun, were taking the train to Grandma's house. Bun sat by the window. Clickety-clack, clickety-clack went the wheels.

They saw cows in a field. Moo! They saw a river with ducks. Quack! They went into a dark tunnel: whooooosh! And out again into the sunshine.

“Next stop, Grandma's town!” called the conductor. Mia grabbed her bag and jumped off the train. The doors closed. The train pulled away. And then Mia gasped. “Bun! I left Bun on the train!”

On the train, Bun sat all alone by the window. Clickety-clack. The conductor walked by and saw him. “Hello, little bear. Are you lost?” She read the tag on his foot: “My name is Bun. I belong to Mia.”

The conductor picked up Bun and spoke into her radio. “Lost teddy on train number seven. His name is Bun.” At the next station, Bun rode back on another train, sitting in the conductor's own seat, wearing her hat.

Mia and Grandma were waiting on the platform. When the train stopped, the conductor stepped out with Bun in her arms. “I think this belongs to you,” she said. Mia hugged Bun so tight. And Bun had the best story to tell: he had been a train conductor for a whole afternoon.

When the sun goes down, the night train starts its trip. Its lights glow softly. Its whistle is quiet: toot… toot.

It goes past the farms, where the cows are sleeping. Clickety-clack, clickety-clack. It goes past the lake, where the moon is floating on the water. Clickety… clack.

It goes through the little town, where all the windows are dark, and over the bridge, where the river whispers shhh, shhh.

Inside the train, the passengers are snuggled in their bunks. A grandma is reading. A baby is yawning. A little boy is looking at the stars through the window.

The train goes slower now. Clickety… clack… clickety… clack. The wheels sing a sleepy song. The little boy's eyes close. The grandma's book falls onto her lap.

The night train keeps rolling softly through the dark, carrying everyone to morning. Toot… toot… goodnight.