The girls stood beside the fence, their eyes bright with anticipation, and they giggled. Calm and kind, the horse let them brush its nose as it dropped its head toward them. Its quiet snorts made the kids laugh even harder, and its coat shone in the sunlight.
Grinning, the uniformed woman adjusted her cap. She said kindly, “He likes you.” “Kindness can be sensed by horses.”
The attitude of one of the young girls changed from one of delight to one of seriousness as she held on to the other’s hand. After a moment of hesitation, she reached up and pulled the woman’s sleeve.
She said, “Does he remember?”
She blinked. “Remember what, my dear?”
With her tiny fingers clutching the fence, the young girl glanced back at the horse.
“My father had a horse before he…” The weight of her remarks lingered in the air even as her voice faded.
The woman realized then that this was more than a simple trip to view a horse.
Since she retired from teaching, Rosa had been volunteering at the community stable for several years. It served as a location for individuals to establish connections with nature, animals, or even with themselves. Today, however, felt different. These two little girls weren’t just here today; they had a purpose beyond simple curiosity.
“Before he what, my love?” Rosa lowered down to the child’s eye level and inquired softly.
Instead, the older daughter, Ellie, a wiry child, spoke out, sweeping dark hair from her face. Last year, our father passed away. He had a deep affection for horses. We hoped that going here would somehow make us feel closer to him.
Rosa felt her heart tighten. Her own spouse had died of cancer years prior, instead of an accident like theirs. Every recollection became both a solace and a wound, and she recalled how empty the world had felt without him. Though much younger, these children were navigating the same storm.
Rosa got back up and patted the horse’s neck, saying, “Well, this old boy doesn’t judge anybody.” We’re glad to have you here, whether you want to chat about your dad or just sit quietly and watch him eat grass.
Sophie, her younger sister, continued to gaze at the animal while Ellie nodded gravely. Sophie hesitated, then muttered, “Do you think Daddy would’ve liked him?”
“Oh,” Rosa said confidently, “I’m sure of it.” “Your dad seems to have valued good company, and I can assure you that he has a heart as big as Texas.”
Ellie and Sophie became frequent guests throughout the course of the following few weeks. They always arrived together, silent yet resolute, after school. The horse, which they had begun referring to as Storm due to his glossy black coat, occasionally received carrots or apples from them. At other times, they just watched him graze while sitting on bales of hay.
Stories started to appear gradually. Although she hadn’t ridden a horse since their father’s death, Ellie told Rosa that he had taught her to ride when she was six years old. Sophie added stories about how, despite the pony’s dislike, he had allowed her to braid ribbons into its mane. Every tale depicted a guy who loved his daughters and relished the small pleasures in life.
However, neither girl brought up the reason of their father’s complete cessation of riding. Rosa didn’t insist. It was necessary for some wounds to heal before they could be expressed out loud.
Sophie asked abruptly, “Can we ride him?” as golden leaves whirled across the field on a cool fall afternoon.
Rosa stopped. She looked at Storm, who was idly using his tail to swat flies away. He was somewhat stable, but still “Are you certain? Riding requires practice, and you two haven’t done it in a long time.
Ellie nibbled on her lip. “I believe we should give it a go. For Dad.
That couldn’t be disputed. Rosa gave them detailed instructions and lots of encouragement as they mounted Storm one by one. Ellie took the lead, her knuckles white as she gripped the reins. Despite the cold, Sophie encouraged her from below by jumping up and down.
Rosa observed something surprising when Sophie’s time came. Unlike most novices, Sophie leaned forward a little and rested her cheek against Storm’s neck rather than clutching to the saddle horn. The breeze conveyed her small voice.
She whispered, “I wish you could tell me about Daddy.”
For a moment, Rosa swore the horse understood as Storm’s ears twitched. Perhaps he did. Animals frequently appeared to know things that people couldn’t express.
The mother of the girls, Mrs. Harper, called Rosa a month later. She spoke in a tentative, almost contrite tone.
Mrs. Harper clarified, “They’ve been inquiring about riding lessons.” “I wasn’t certain whether you provided that.”
Into the phone, Rosa grinned. Yes, without a doubt. Actually, I believe it’s just what they require.
Rosa kept her promise and set up weekly lessons for Sophie and Ellie. Their innate connection to horses was evident as they made rapid progress. But Rosa saw a shift in Sophie as winter drew near. Sophie appeared calmer, almost reclusive, while Ellie gained confidence.
After class one cold December morning, Sophie lingered behind. Her cheeks were pink from suppressing her emotions, not the cold.
“What’s the matter, my love?” Rosa knelt next to her and asked.
Sophie gave herself a firm hug. “I’m to blame for Daddy’s absence.”
Rosa felt sick to her stomach. “What gives you that impression?”
Sophie cried out, “I made him quit riding.” He vowed never to ride again after I sobbed so hard after falling from a pony once. He expressed his desire to keep me safe.
Rosa realized what was going on. This was guilt, not simply grief. All along, Sophie had been bearing the consequences of her father’s choice.
Rosa whispered, “Oh, honey,” and gathered the girl in her arms. “You didn’t cause that. Your father loved you enough to make that decision. He wished to protect you.
“However, if he hadn’t quit riding… Unable to finish, Sophie trailed off.
Rosa embraced her. “My dear, we are unable to alter the past. We can only honor the love he bestowed upon us. And notice how you’re becoming into such a capable rider. He would be proud of that, don’t you think?
Sophie smiled for the first time in months; it was a tiny, frail smile, but it was real.
Warmer days and fresh starts greeted us as spring arrived. Rosa arranged a modest riding demonstration for the local families who often visited the stable on a bright Saturday. Ellie and Sophie enthusiastically joined in, leading Storm through easy patterns and receiving cheers from the audience.
Later, when everyone had gathered for cookies and lemonade, Mrs. Harper came up to Rosa with bright eyes.
“Thank you,” was all she said. “You’ve given my girls a way to go forward without forgetting, something I couldn’t have.”
Rosa gave a headshake. “They worked hard on their own. All I did was point them in the proper way.
Sophie was waiting for Rosa when she shut up the stable later that night. The young girl brought out a drawing, a vibrant picture of Storm with two riders on top of him, with the words “Me & Ellie” written in shaky letters.
“For you,” Sophie said timidly. “Because you assisted us in locating Daddy once more.”
Rosa’s eyes pricked with tears. “My dear, I believe it’s the opposite. You helped me remember what’s most important.
Love survives although life changes. Rosa was reminded of that lesson by Ellie and Sophie. Grief may mold us, but it doesn’t define us—not when we decide to bravely and optimistically move on from our memories.
Please tell others about this tale if it moved you. Let’s show each other a little love and remember that healing is possible even in the face of loss. ❤️
