Standing beside the fence, the girls laughed and seemed excited. The calm, kind horse dropped its head to let them brush its nose. The children laughed harder at its soft snorts and sunlight-gleaming coat.
The uniformed woman adjusted her headgear and smiled. “He likes you,” she added happily. Horses perceive kindness.”
One girl held to the other’s hand, her countenance changing from delight to seriousness. She hesitated before pulling the woman’s sleeve.
“Does he remember?” she whispered.
A woman blinks. Remember what, sweetie?
Her tiny fingers holding the fence, the girl stared at the horse again.
“My father had a horse before…” Her voice faded, but her words lingered.
In that instant, the woman knew this wasn’t simply a horse visit.
Rosa volunteered at the community stable for years after retiring from teaching. People could connect with animals, nature, or themselves there. Today felt different. Two tiny girls brought more than curiosity today.
Sweetheart, before he what? Rosa asked gently, bending to view the kid.
Instead, Ellie, a wiry older female, spoke out, moving her dark hair out of her face. “Our dad died last year. He adored horses. We hoped to feel closer to him by coming here.
Her heart tightened. She had lost her husband to cancer years before, not an accident. She remembered how empty the world felt without him, how every recollection comforted and hurt. Younger kids navigated that storm.
Rosa rose and patted the horse’s neck, saying, “This old boy doesn’t judge anyone. We welcome you to talk about your dad or just watch him nibble grass.
Ellie nodded seriously as Sophie stared at the horse. After pausing, Sophie asked, “Do you think Daddy would’ve liked him?”
“Oh, I’m sure of it,” Rosa said. “Your dad liked good company—and trust me, he’s got a Texas-sized heart.”
After a few weeks, Ellie and Sophie visited regularly. They came after school, quiet but resolute, always together. They sometimes brought carrots or apples for Storm, the horse they named for his glossy black coat. They sometimes sat on hay bales watching him graze.
Stories emerged slowly. Ellie informed Rosa that their father taught her to ride when she was six, but she hadn’t since he died. Sophie told how he allowed her braid ribbons into their neighbor’s pony’s mane, even though it despised it. Each narrative showed a father who loved his daughters and life’s simple pleasures.
However, neither girl explained why their father quit riding. Rosa didn’t argue. Some wounds needed time to heal before speaking.
Sophie suddenly asked, “Can we ride him?” as golden leaves whirled around the field one crisp fall afternoon.
Rosa froze. She looked at Storm, who was lazily flicking flies with his tail. He remained steady, yet… Are you sure? It’s been a while since you two rode.”
Eleanor bit her lip. I think we should try. For Dad.”
That was undisputed. Rosa helped them climb Storm one by one with careful directions and reassurance. Ellie started, holding the reins hard with white knuckles. Sophie hopped about below, cheering her on despite the cold.
Rosa observed something surprising when Sophie was up. Sophie moved forward and rested her cheek on Storm’s neck instead riding clutching to the saddle horn like most novices. Small voice wafted on the breeze.
“I wish you could tell me about Daddy,” she whispered.
Storm’s ears twitched, and Rosa thought the horse understood. Maybe he did. Animals may have known things humans couldn’t.
Mrs. Harper, the girls’ mother, called Rosa a month later. Her tone was hesitant, almost sorry.
“They’ve been asking about riding lessons,” Mrs. Harper said. “I wasn’t sure if you offered that.”
In the phone, Rosa smiled. “Absolutely. I think it’s perfect for them.”
Rosa kept her word and gave Ellie and Sophie weekly lessons. Their unique affinity with horses helped them improve swiftly. Sophie changed as winter neared, Rosa noticed. Sophie seemed quieter and more withdrawn as Ellie gained confidence.
Sophie lingered after class one frigid December morning. Her cheeks were heated from holding back tears, not chilly.
Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Rosa kneeled beside her and asked.
Sophie clung to herself. “It’s my fault Daddy is gone.”
Her stomach sank. “What makes you say that?”
“He gave up riding because of me,” Sophie cried. “After falling off a pony, I cried so much that he promised never to ride again. He wished me no harm.”
Rosa began to understand. Guilt accompanied the pain. Sophie had always carried her father’s decision.
“Oh, honey,” Rosa whispered, hugging the girl. That wasn’t your fault. Dad chose that because he loved you. He wants to protect you.”
But if he hadn’t stopped riding… Sophie stopped, unable to finish.
Rosa clutched her. “Dear, we can’t change the past. Honoring his love is all we can do. Look at your growing riding strength. Wouldn’t he be proud?
The first time in months, Sophie smiled—small and delicate but real.
Spring brought warmer weather and new beginnings. A bright Saturday, Rosa held a little riding display for local families who frequented the stable. Ellie and Sophie cheerfully guided Storm through easy routines, winning loud plaudits.
When everyone had lemonade and cookies, Mrs. Harper approached Rosa with bright eyes.
Simple “Thank you,” she said. “You gave my girls something I couldn’t—a way to move forward without forgetting.”
Rosa shook her head. “They worked hard themselves. I directed them.”
Sophie was waiting for Rosa when she shut the stable that night. The girl held up a colorful artwork of Storm with two riders and the words “Me & Ellie” in unsteady letters.
“For you,” Sophie sheepishly murmured. “You helped us find Daddy again.”
Rosa was struck by tears. Dear, I suppose it’s the other way around. You reminded me what matters.”
Life goes on, but love stays. Rosa learned that again from Ellie and Sophie. When we remember with hope and courage, grief shapes us but does not define us.
If this story moved you, share it. Share some kindness and remember that loss may be overcome. ❤️
