Today was a special day. The barn door burst open right at 12 noon and in ran the boys, my helpers, with their release notes waving like flags in their outstretched hands, permission for them to finally ride. As promised and highly anticipated by all, we brushed our sweet mare, Dakota, with her own bucket full of brand new grooming supplies (also a surprisingly exciting event, as comments were made by the boys like “Wow, cool hoof pick!”) and led her into the indoor round pen.
Two times around the arena and Dakota began looking in at her trusted companion, the one boy who had been working with her for the past few weeks and she has begun to love. She began licking her lips and giving the signs that she was ready to join up. The boy’s body language changed immediately as he picked up on her cues. He dropped his eye contact, took a step backward and turned his shoulder to the mare, seemingly disinterested. The mare immediately stopped running and turned in to meet the boy who in the center of the arena. The boy stroked her head quietly praising her before turning and walking away. Like a magnet, the mare followed the boy, a loyal companion. And all of this in silent communication between a horse and a boy.
“Is it time to ride now?” he asked as I approached him in the round pen. “Just about” I said, to which he asked if he could take a moment to go change into his riding clothes. I looked at what he was wearing…jeans, rubber boots…everything that was quite appropriate for riding in a western saddle and just walking. I wondered silently what he meant by “riding clothes”. When he came back to the arena with a proud look on his face I noticed that he had somehow gotten his hands on an old pair of english breeches…the tight stretchy ones with the suede knee patches. With his camoflauge hunting jacket, breeches, rubber boots, and helmet, he was now officially ready to ride. My heart warmed.
After a successful first ride for both boys, we were finishing up chores in the barn. It was almost time for pick-up and I noticed my helper was still wearing not only his helmet, but his breeches as well. “I’ll take care of this,” I said, “why don’t you go change back into your school clothes before your ride gets here.” He hesitated, “Umm, I think that I’ll just wear these back to school,” he said looking down at his baggy breeches, “I want everyone to know that I went riding today.”
Looking out the window in the stall as the boys climbed into the truck to head back to school, I couldn’t help thinking to myself, “Wear those breeches with pride, my friend.” (And silently praying that he could pull it off back at middle school.)
Where love is spread, hope will grow.
Tracy
Where love is spread, hope will grow.
Tracy
