Henry was one of the Big Three. He was bigger than James but smaller than Gordon, and often found himself a convenient target for both. Henry had had to learn tactics that would keep the peace, because peace was important to him- it soothed his troubled soul.
Sometimes Henry grumbled along with the others. Other times he backed them up even if his heart wasn't in it because if he backed down they would mock him. Sometimes he took his frustrations out on other engines in an attempt to be more like Gordon and take back control. Guilt and shame over his conflicting emotions bore down on Henry and often led to steaming troubles, causing disdain from the engines he himself had mocked and whose support he could no longer rely on. It was a vicious circle.
It was night time on the island of Sodor and all the engines were in the shed. Henry rested at the end, with Gordon to his left and the shed wall to his right. The heat from Gordon kept him warm on one side, but a cold chill ran down the other. He tried to close his eyes but the constant chatter and bragging ensured sleep remained as distant as the dark shrouded hills. Gordon and James were in an argument, Thomas was shouting at both, and Edward was trying to keep the peace but failing. On top of that, Henry's inner voice wouldn't leave him alone. "You're an outsider," it kept telling him. "You'll never fully belong."
One day, Henry was visiting the forest. His crew would allow him time to sit by the trees after completing his duties. It was a brief respite from all the hustle and bustle, and the two men enjoyed the tranquility as much as Henry did. They stretched their legs along the track while Henry listened to the sound of birds chirping and leaves rustling in the breeze. The forest had recovered nicely since the storm had almost wiped it out. Trees and shrubs displayed all shades of green- Henry's favourite colour. Now and then a squirrel popped out of the grass and scurried across the tracks. Henry had even seen deer and hedgehogs. He was always careful when arriving and leaving, making sure he didn't harm any of the woodland creatures. They were curious about the big engine that gently wheeshed beside their home, but scurried away when Henry's crew approached. The men drank tea that they brewed in Henry's cab, and walked around the engine with cloths that they used to wipe off any dirt that they found. Henry enjoyed the special care his crew took to make him comfortable during these all too short breaks from his daily workload. Sometimes his eyes grew heavy and he dozed.
Today, his eyes were drawn to a tiny flower growing right next to the tracks. He hadn't seen it before. It must have bloomed between this visit and his last. Its petals were bright orange and it stood out against the dark green grass that surrounded it. Its stalk was thin and spindly and it trembled in the breeze, nodding and bowing its head as if in greeting. 'What a perfectly beautiful little flower,' thought Henry. 'Growing all by itself and looking so proud.'
Henry's driver checked his watch and declared that it was time to return to Tidmouth. Henry didn't take his eyes off the tiny flower as the two men climbed up into his cab. He didn't take his eyes off it while they performed their duties in preparation for the journey. He felt new coal filling his firebox and didn't take his eyes off the flower even when the water in his boiler began to radiate heat through his entire frame. Even when steam erupted from his valves and his wheels began inching forward with a "chuff, chuff, chuff," Henry continued to look at the little flower until it passed out of his line of sight.
Henry thought about the tiny flower all the way back to Tidmouth yards.
That evening, when all the engines were in their sheds and Gordon was boasting about the Express, Henry pictured the flower in his mind. Each tiny petal glowed brightly, every bob of its head made Henry smile. It was a perfect little flower growing all by itself. It didn't need anyone's approval, it didn't mind if nobody saw it. It only had one purpose, and that was to be the most perfect little flower it could be. And even though it was all by itself, it belonged right where it was.
'And I belong right where I am,' thought Henry. 'I don't need anyone's approval either. I just have to be myself.'
For the first time in ages, Henry mustered up the courage to join in the nightly sparring between Gordon and James. They were surprised but delighted at his eager participation. Whenever they teased or insulted him, he gave back as good as he got. He spoke his mind and engaged in a volley of words with James that almost left the red engine speechless. He mentioned bootlaces and bees and troublesome trucks. He even managed to make Gordon laugh- more than once. Instead of sulking or feeling belittled, Henry gave a booming chuckle when James called him 'old square wheels'. He found it quite liberating to laugh at himself. His enthusiasm was infectious and soon everyone had joined in. The banter continued well into the night-and to Henry's surprise, he enjoyed every minute of it. All because of one tiny little flower that bravely held its own in a forest full of mighty trees, and didn't give an owl's hoot what anybody thought.