My Life Changed that DayA Story by Analae
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.
© 2010 Analae
Added on June 4, 2010
Last Updated on June 4, 2010
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