My Dad makes incredible wooden trains to sell at the Farmer's Market and to private buyers. I began to express envy that he was selling off his handiwork to total strangers when he has two young grandsons who are the perfect age to enjoy wooden trucks, trains, and anything else with wheels. So for Christmas my Dad nearly did himself under creating the most exquisite heirloom-quality trains I've ever seen, far surpassing anything he'd ever created before. They are similar but not identical and the boys instantly fell in love with them. How could they not? I immediately felt torn between either allowing the boys to play with them or tucking them high on a shelf to be seen but not touched and possibly damaged. But then I remembered the tale of the Velveteen Rabbit and how only toys that are loved become real... and how could I not want these amazing trains to become real, if only for the few years that Nathan and Benjamin will enjoy hours of imaginative play off to far away lands aboard their locomotives?