My Life Changed that Day

This is an academic essay.

It had to be a joke.  A cruel joke.  Tears stung my face in the cold winter air.  It was Christmas of 1996.  A child is not supposed to cry on Christmas.  It just had to be a joke, because I was crying.  I walked, my feet dragging the ground.  I was saying good bye to my best friend, a sorrel quarter horse named Goldie.

                I had been riding her for a year now and loved her like she was family.  The lady that owned her was moving and was selling her, so I was having to say goodbye.  She was next door to where my family lived and I had been told to go get her, for she had been sold.  I was to bring her back to my parents’ home so the people that had bought her could pick her up.  I made it to the pen and there she was.  Her breath showing in the cold air, and she greeted me with her welcoming call.  I felt the tears flowing harder.

                She had a big bow across her back and one around her neck.  Whoever was going to get her was getting a great friend.  I walked into the pen, wrapped a rope around her neck, walked her to the fence and vaulted onto her, no bridle, no saddle; just me, the horse and my string.  I rode out of the pen, my shaking hand on her neck and walked her back to my parents’ house.  They were out in the yard, looking sad.  I was still crying, hard, for I knew I would be saying goodbye very soon.  We could not afford her, for my family had just been married the year before and had just bought a house.  Horses are expensive and a lot of work, and I knew that.

                I went to go get off of her, and my mom stood on one side, my dad on the other and looked at my tearful face.  Then they smiled.  I could not figure out why.  “Merry Christmas,” they yelled in unison.  I was in shock.  “What?”  I asked them, not knowing if I had heard them right.  “Merry Christmas,” they said again.  I started crying harder, hugging the big animal around the neck, my head buried in her mane.  These were different tears and for another reason.  I was getting to keep my friend and she was going to be mine.  Goldie started prancing, like she knew what was going on, and she let out a loud whiney. 

                My dad helped me get down off of the horse and told me to go in the house.  I didn’t want to leave Godlie’s side but Santa had come.  Mom had some time earlier snuck back in the house and was waiting on me.  And sitting on a bean bag was a saddle, blanket, and a bridle.  I squealed in excitement running to sit on the saddle.  It was the one I had learned how to ride in.  I was excited.  I grabbed the saddle and it was heavy and almost as big as I was.  I dragged it out of the house, the stirrups hitting the ground.  I set it on the porch and ran back into the house to get the rest of the tack so I could ride my horse on Christmas.  I saddled her up, got on her, and rode her around the yard, excited and happy. 

o    After Christmas, we built a horse pen and a stall and moved her into the front yard.  When I would get home from school I would grab a lawn chair and go sit out in the pen and do my homework, my friend eating the grass around me.  We lived in the middle of nowhere so I had no other kids my age to play with, so my horse was my life.  If I could, I think I would have slept in that pen with her. 

                In 1998, I got an invite to come to a horse show.  I had my eyes opened to abuse.  My horse was excited after the show was over.  I didn’t want to put her back on the trailer but the people that had trailered her for me wanted to go ahead and load her up.  They acted like I didn’t know what I was doing.  It hurt.  What was worse was what they put my friend through.  She fought them.  It took six grown men, three ties, two whips and a twitch to get her on that trailer.  To this day, I still have trouble getting her to trailer just because of that bad memory, but she trusts me.

                In 2000, I got invited to a race.  I was excited, though I did not plan on entering.  I just wanted to watch.  Someone paid my entrance fee anyway and I raced.  I took home first place, a big ribbon for the horse and a belt buckle for me.  I raced twelve more times, winning each time.  In 2004, I had an accident and almost lost my life falling off of my friend.  I still ride her but I no longer race. 

                Now, being the year of 2010, my friend is going grey.  She has gotten older, now sitting at twenty-eight years old.  It is sad to watch her.  She will start to run, take a few jogging steps and slow back into a walk.  I know one day I will lose my friend.  But, I am thankful for that Christmas and those tears I cried, for that is a year I will never forget, that is the year my life changed.