In preparation for the evening, a few weeks ago, one of the women in charge asked me if I have any collections. My mind immediately turned to my horse collection. Lacey was sure I'd given them all away, and I was afraid I did, but something kept telling me I still had some. I called my dear mother with hope they could be found. Mom scoured the spare room downstairs, called back and announced a victory. Apparently I still had 15 horses! Thank you Mom for finding them! Since Mom, Dad and Kyle came down before the R.S. night, they brought my horses and I was able to display them. It brought happiness to my heart to have them again. I'm sure David is wondering what we're supposed to do with all these horses... but that's okay! ;)
This is how my horse collecting began:
|This is what's left of my collection. To think I had more!|
I first experienced riding a horse by myself when I was 8 years old and afterward determined to hate horses the rest of my life. I was with my family, about to embark on a trail ride, when my uncle slapped the rump of my horse so it would catch up to the rest. My horse proceeded to switch from a walk to a trot, which is the most jarring gait of a horse. As an 8 year old, by myself, being jolted around on a horse I knew not how to control, I got nervous and anxious. The horse, in turn, fed off of my nervousness, spun around, and headed straight back to the stables. I started yelling for my dad, making my horse that much more excited, which translated into running faster. It whipped around the corner of the stables and left me in a pile on the gravel road. With broken glasses and bleeding face and knees, I vowed never to get on a horse again. My dad, in his wisdom, had other ideas.
The quote, “When you fall off the horse, get right back on again.” suddenly became my reality. Despite my pleas to let me hate horses forever, my dad made me get on an even bigger horse the very next day, patched up knees and all. There’s truth to the ideal that getting back on the horse heals you. Somehow, just from getting back on, I went from horse hater to horse lover. Since that day Dad made me get back on, I only ever wanted to have my own horse. I was blessed to have horses for much of my childhood and because of my love for them, every birthday and Christmas I was guaranteed a model horse as a present.
To this day I have scars on my knees from falling off that horse. Those scars remind me to,
1. Never wear shorts while riding a horse, and
These are two of my dear horses I was once privileged to have. In those moments when I needed peace of mind and heart I would go out to the field and just hug them and talk/cry my heart out to them. These ladies were truly two of my best friends. Unfortunately the day came when my family moved, I was in school and couldn't keep an eye on their mischievous souls. Destiny, especially, liked to break out of the field and gave our neighbors the time of their lives trying to catch her. The silly girl would only come to me, and since I didn't have a cell phone they were often running about until I got home from class, got the message they were out, and drove out to where they were to catch them. Needless to say, I think our neighbors were greatly relieved when I decided to sell them. One of my favourite things about these girls is that they wouldn't come to me when I called unless I said, "Hey Beautifuls!!!", then they would come running. :) Oh how I miss them....