A/N: 75 years ago today, a man named Wilbert W. Awdry published The Three Railway Engines, based off of stories he would tell his young son Christopher. Little did they know, this book would kickstart a global sensation that continues to this day. In honor of this anniversary, I present to you:

Chapter 19: A Faithful Encounter

Edward sighed sadly as he gave his engine another futile polish. Once the pride of the North Western Railway, she had been shunted into the sheds and replaced by newer and stronger engines, Edward himself being relegated to covering for the others when they were too ill to work.

Edward threw the rag into the bucket of soap and water in despair. He knew his engine could be really useful, if only the management would give it the chance.

He was disturbed from his thoughts when a ball bounced against his leg. Confused, he picked it up, looking around for its owner.

"Excuse me? Can I have my ball back, please?"

Edward looked down to see a small boy, no more than 12, at the mouth of the sheds. Smiling, Edward rolled it back to him.

"There you go, but you'd better head home now. Its dangerous to play around rail yards."

"I know, I will. Thanks mister!"

The boy turned to leave, only to stop and stare at Edward's engine.

"Is that a Furness Railway K2?"

"It sure is. You sure know your steam engines."

"Yeah, I live nearby a railway line on the mainland. My family and I are here on holiday. But why is she sitting in here collecting dust?"

Edward sighed wearily, mopping his forehead.

"The railway doesn't have any use for her anymore. Say that the other engines can manage just fine and she'd just be in the way. I'm afraid her working days are over."

"Nonsense! An engine this beautiful deserves to be out on the mainline, not cramped up in here."

Edward looked up in surprise.

"You really think she's beautfiul?"

"Are you kidding? I've never seen anything like her before. Um, can I tell you a little secret?"

Edward nodded, leaning in.

"Sometimes I like to pretend that the engines are alive. Like when a banking engine pushes a train up the hill by my house, I like to think the lead one is saying "I can't do it, I can't do it" and the other one says "I will do it! I will do it!" I know its silly, but the way the engines sound sometimes I'd swear they were real."

Edward chuckled, clearly seeing a future engine driver in front of him.

"Oh, I don't think its silly. I think the same thing myself sometimes."

"Really?"

Edward nodded, placing a hand on his engine.

"There's nothing quite like them, is there? I tell ya, when you're on the footplate feeding the fire, its as if a giant is snoring underneath your feet. Its that feeling that I live for."

"Gee, thanks Mr..."

"You can call me Edward. And what would be your name?"

"Wilbert. Wilbert Awdry!"

"Nice to meet you, Wilbert."

But as Wilbert turned to head home, Edward couldn't help but get the feeling that he would go on to do amazing things.

A few years had passed, and Wilbert was now in his late teens. One Summer holiday, his family decided to head back to Sodor. Boy, was Edward surprised to see him! The two caught up, Wilbert happy to see that Edward's engine was back in working order, and Edward was pleased to hear that his studies were going well. But soon it was time for Edward to take his next train, and he waved goodbye to his friend.

A few days later, Wilbert stood in confusion as a large crowd gathered outside of Ffarquhar station. While he hadn't been on the island very long, he had gotten the feeling that it was ordinarily quiet with not much ever happening. He was just about to ask what the commotion was about when the sounds of an engine and bus respectively were heard approaching. With a mas cheer, a little blue tank engine came in, followed shortly by a little red bus.

Wilbert was nearly thrown off his feet as the crowd charged forward, swarming the drivers of the two vehicles. The bus driver chuckled and shook hands with the man in the tank engine.

"Well done, Thomas. But for me to beat your engine over the hill, I would have to attach wings to it like an aeroplane."

Everyone had a good laugh at that, but soon they grew bored and dispersed, Bertie heading back to the bus depot and Thomas leaving to collect more passengers.

Later that evening, Wilbert was out for a walk when he saw Thomas looking very down on himself. Sir Topham Hatt was speaking to him, and he was not happy at all.

"What were you thinking, Thomas? I've told you not to go at such speeds on the line, its too dangerous! You could've seriously hurt yourself, or your passengers!"

"Yes sir, I'm sorry sir."

"I should hope so too! You're lucky the local constable is rather forgiving, or you'd be in a lot more trouble."

Feeling sorry for Thomas, Wilbert decided to butt in.

"Excuse me, sir, but I do think you might be a little too harsh on him."

"With all due respect, good sir, this does not concern you."

"Maybe not, but I don't think its fair to make him feel worse than he already does. Plus, I heard the passengers quite liked the race. If nothing else, you can say your railway is faster than the bus."

Sir Topham Hatt thought about this for a minute, then nodded his head."

"I suppose you're right. Very well, Thomas, I shall leave it at that. Good night."

And with that he walked away. Thomas gave the man a small smile.

"Thanks for that, Mr..."

"Wilbert. Wilbert Awdry."

"Nice to meet you, Wilbert."

"Likewise, Thomas."

Wilbert and his family would make many trips to Sodor over the years. During these times, Wilbert met Percy, Toby, Duck, and many other friends, and they would all share their many exploits. Wilbert's favorite was the time when Thomas had "gone fishing" and fish had gotten into his engines boiler! They all had a good laugh at that, except for Thomas. He thought they were all being silly.

But as he got older, Wilbert's trips to Sodor became less frequent. Over time, he got a job, got married, and started a family of his own, and his trips stopped all together. But he would never forget the quaint little Island of Sodor, nor would its residents forget him.

One day, his son had became bedridden with measles. Hoping to cheer him up, Wilbert drew up some pictures of trains, and put little faces on them to make them alive. Having inherited his father's love for the railway, Christopher loved them immediately, but he couldn't help but be drawn to one in particular.

"Daddy? Why is this one sad?"

Wilbert looked at the picture in question and pondered. He hadn't really come up with a story, and drawing on his memories as a child he came up with one on the spot.

"Because Christopher, he hasn't been out in a long time and wants to be really useful."

"Could you tell me more, please?"

With a smile and twinkle in his eyes, Wilbert began his tale.

"Once upon a time, there was a little engine called Edward. He lived in a shed with five other engines..."

And the rest, as they say, is history.