One of the nice things about riding the train is the diversity of people you meet as you travel. The Upper Delaware is a resort destination and the weekend home to many who come from the city for an escape. We are still home to many of the traditional ethnic diversities that made the Borsht Belt famous in the ‘50s and ‘60s. Over the decades, new ethnic groups have added their particular flavor and flair to our area.

Among the newer groups to find their way to our hills are those who have come to call the various Buddhist temples in the Orange/Sullivan County area home. I actually pass the Kadampa Meditation Center in Glen Spey on my way to and from the train each day. The only way you would know the temple is there is the sign on the road, because it is well set back from the main highway, its 82 acres hidden in the pines. Living in Glen Spey, I have come to know the members of the temple as quiet and gentle neighbors.

When you first encounter a Buddhist priest or nun, you will notice them by their long orange robes, short cropped hair and pleasant disposition. I have had the chance to speak with many of them as they ride the train to Port Jervis and often offered them rides to the center rather than see them pay an expensive cab fare to a place I am going to pass anyway. They are a diverse group and all have their own story to tell, if you care to take the time to ask and listen. On one trip I met a man who was from London, where he worked for years in the stock market and gave it all up for the life of a Buddhist priest. He was also on a mission; not forgetting his secular roots, he was brought to the Kadampa Center to help build its website and improve its Internet connections. I have met others who were teachers, lawyers and carpenters, etc. in their previous lives, all bringing their particular skills to help improve life at the center.

Recently, one cold winter’s night, I saw a group of three nuns and a priest, and couldn’t help noticing they all had foreign accents, since they were quite animated in their conversation. They hailed from Sweden, Germany, Belgium and England. All had wound up on this same train unbeknownst to each other. As we departed the train, I could see the bewildered “where-do-we-go-from-here?” look on their faces. I offered them all a ride; in no time their backpacks were in the bed of my truck and they were piling into the seats.

As we drove, someone mentioned that she thought all of New York was like the city. I chuckled to myself and as we were driving through Hawk’s Nest decided to give them a treat. I pulled over, shut off my lights and opened the hatch of my moon roof. I could hear the collective gasp as they all spied the stars above us. It was one of those cold nights we love up here, when you can see the vastness of the night sky and realize how tiny we truly are in relation to it. I turned to look at the smiles on their faces and the sister from Belgium said, “I feel like I am in a space ship!” Now my smile was from ear to ear. As I drove on, they all craned their necks to see the heavens above—how heavenly indeed. We finally reached the center, and they left shaking my hand in turn, saying, “Peace and joy to you, Tom.” So I pass this wish on to you who are reading this column: peace and joy to YOU for a glorious holiday season and the brightest of New Years.