Horse Sense




"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to slide in horseback, reins in one hand, favorite beverage in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and screaming WOO HOO - What a Ride!"

The surest sign of a fool is the person who thinks they know it all.

A true horseman never stops learning.

You can learn something from every horse and every person, even if its just what not to do.

Gather a little from every source to create what works for you and your horse.

No one is right all the time.

Publicity doesn’t make a horseman, always remember to look behind the ‘showmanship’.

Take reputations into consideration, but remember how the grapevine distorts things(pro or con).

Always keep your mind and eyes open and don’t be afraid to ask questions.

Eight times out of ten, if the horse didn’t do what you asked; it was because he didn’t understand. Its your fault for not communicating, not his for not understanding.

Bits are like guns…. It’s the hand that controls them that makes them evil.

Want to know who is really the alpha? Walk into the herd with a bucket of grain, if none mug you for it, then its you. Otherwise its whoever has it now.

Patience is a form of wisdom.

If you have some great advice to add, Please e it to Deb.


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The horse’s existence is threatened on all levels…

Encroaching development is eliminating pastures and whole farms.

Hay supplies are dwindling as farmers are squeezed out by development and taxes.

Horse people need to stick together, ALL HORSE PEOPLE!

Regardless of breed or use…. We all need land and hay.

We must support each other in order to support our horses.

If we can form a unified force in all things horse, we will become a power

that government agencies will be unable to ignore.

The race horses must unite with the show horses, must unite with the pleasure horses; we must be as one.


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I Take Responsibility For The Horse Within



I will see that he has every day,
plenty of clean water and good hay.
Shelter from cold, wind and rain
and the ration he needs daily of grain.

I'll see to his need for play and exercise.
and Love him, for that is the bind that ties.
I'll teach him and I promise to learn
His trust in me, I'll take time to earn.

He'll not be just a toy that I can afford,
That I forget, except to pay board.
I'll see to his needs day in and day out,
not leaving him in his stall to sulk and pout.

I know that I own him but he too owns me,
I'm responsible to keep him happy and healthy.
He is not a burden, but a life long friend.
Not one I'll abandon when his life nears its end.

It was my choice not his, to have a horse
From that choice his life should be better, not worse.
I'll not ship him off when he's too old to ride,
finding excuses and reasons behind which to hide.

Like marriage it was meant to last, not end in divorce.
For that divorce often means the death of the horse.
It is more like a child, the purchase a birth,
a being to care for, a life that has worth.

I acknowledge this commitment with honor and pride,
I'll care for this horse, he's not just something to ride.
If the day ever comes, when my promise I can't fulfill,
I'll see that he is placed with someone who will.
©June Marie Johnson



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Created Horse.



Dearest Creator in Heaven
Give me strength to guide my horse.
Make my hands soft and my head clear
Let my horse understand me and I him.


My heart you have blessed with a special love of these animals.
Let me never lose sight of it.
My soul you have gifted with a deep need for them.
Let that need never lessen.


Always let my breath catch as the sun glows on an elegant head.
Always may my throat tighten at the sound of a gentle nicker.
Let the scent of fresh hay and a new bag of grain be sweet to me.
Let the touch of warm nose upon my hand always bring a smile.


I adore the joy of a warm day on the farm.
The grace and splendor of a running horse.
Let the thunder of hooves make my eyes haze and my heart soar.
Let it always be so.


Dearest Creator grant me patience.
For horses are harnessed wind and wind can be flighty.
Let me not frighten or harm them.
Instead show me ways to understand them.


Above all Dear Creator fill my life with them.
When I pass from this world
Send my soul to no heaven without them.
For this love you have given graces my existence
And I shall cherish it and praise You for it for all time.
~Author Unknown~


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Old Horsewoman




When I Am An Old Horsewoman...
I shall wear turquoise and diamonds, and a straw hat that doesn't suit me.
I shall spend my social security on white wine and carrots.
And sit in my alley-way of my barn and listen to my horses breathe.
I will sneak out in the middle of a summer night and ride the old bay gelding,
Across the moonstruck meadow, if my old bones will allow...


And when people come to call, I will smile and nod as I walk past the gardens to the barn.
And show instead of flowers growing, the inside of stalls fresh-lined with straw.
I will shovel and sweat and wear hay in my hair as if it were a jewel. who will not yet have found the peace in being free to have a horse as a best friend.
A friend who waits at midnight hour, with muzzle and nicker and patient eyes,
For the kind of woman I will be when I am old...
-Author Unknown


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Our lives with horses are rich with feeling.



If you've ever...
choked back tears watching a new foal wobble to his feet for the first time...
or watching your good horse wobble to his feet after surgery...
or seen the ends of the reins float straight out as a reining horse spins beneath them...
or chuckled to yourself as you watched a tiny tot on a patient pony trot through a barrel pattern at a saddle club playday...
or felt the building tremble as an eight-up hitch of feather-legged giants towed a hand-carved beer wagon into the arena...
or had your heart stop when you saw your horse lying motionless in the pasture on a sunny day -- and waited breathlessly to see an ear flicker...
or cheered at the screen when The Man From Snowy River slid Dunnie down the mountainside, or when Seabiscuit made his final surge to best War Admiral...
or cruised along the highway and seen a horse in the pasture and wondered what he's like to ride..
or pictured him as a prospect... or sucked in your breath as a horse and rider approached a six-foot wall...
or sworn a solemn oath to your horse that together you would triumph...
or flipped through the TV channels and stopped when you saw a horse... even when it was a commercial...
or laughed aloud when you rubbed your horse's face and he rubbed back...
or gotten chills hearing Dave Johnson's quote;... and DOWN THE STRETCH THEY COME!; (Or "Run For The Roses"; circa 1980 ish?)
or stood in awe at your horse in morning play as he sprinted around the pasture, then stopped, head erect, and snorted defiance at the rest of the world...
or been thankful to see wild horses grazing casually at the foot of a hill...
or felt calmed by the sleekness of a silky haircoat beneath your hand...
or felt your jaw drop as you watched a Lipizzan perform a capriole...
or if you've ever seen someone in the grocery store wearing a certain kind of hat or boots or buckle, or have a certain cut and length to their jeans... and felt some remote kind of connection...
or felt warmed by a soft-nicker greeting you as you entered the barn...
If you've ever been moved by any of these feelings, I hope you'll enjoy the time you spend here.
~Author Unknown~


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My child turned sixteen years old today; which is a milestone for most people. Besides looking at baby photos and childhood trinkets with her, I took time to reflect on the young woman my child had become and the choices she would face in the future. As I looked at her I could see the athlete she was, and determined woman she would soon be.

I started thinking about some the girls we knew in our town who were already pregnant, pierced in several places, hair every color under the sun, drop outs, drug addicts and on the fast track to no where, seeking surface identities because they had no inner self esteem. The parents of these same girls have asked me why I 'waste' the money on horses so my child can ride. I'm told she will grow out of it, lose interest, discover boys and all kinds of things that try to pin the current generation's 'slacker' label on my child. I don't think it will happen, I think she will love and have horses all her life.

Because my child grew up with horses she has compassion. She knows that we must take special care of the very young and the very old. We must make sure those without voices to speak of their pain are still cared for.

Because my child grew up with horses she learned responsibility for others than herself. She learned that regardless of the weather you must still care for those you have the stewardship of. There are no 'days off' just because you don't feel like being a horse owner that day. She learned that for every hour of fun you have there are days of hard slogging work you must do first.

Because my child grew up with horses she learned not to be afraid of getting dirty and that appearances don't matter to most of the breathing things in the world we live in. Horses do not care about designer clothes, jewelry, pretty hairdos or anything else we put on our bodies to try to impress others. What a horse cares about are your abilities to work within his natural world, he doesn't care if you're wearing $80.00 jeans while you do it.

Because my child grew up with horses she learned about sex and how it can both enrich and complicate lives. She learned that it only takes one time to produce a baby, and the only way to ensure babies aren't produced is not to breed. She learned how babies are planned, made, born and, sadly, sometimes die before reaching their potential. She learned how sleepless nights and trying to outsmart a crafty old broodmare could result in getting to see, as non-horse owning people rarely do, the birth of a true miracle.

Because my child grew up with horses she understands the value of money. Every dollar can be translated into bales of hay, bags of feed or farrier visits. Purchasing non-necessities during lean times can mean the difference between feed and good care, or neglect and starvation. She has learned to judge the level of her care against the care she sees provided by others and to make sure her standards never lower, and only increase as her knowledge grows.

Because my child grew up with horses she has learned to learn on her own. She has had teachers that cannot speak, nor write, nor communicate beyond body language and reactions. She has had to learn to 'read' her surroundings for both safe and unsafe objects, to look for hazards where others might only see a pretty meadow. She has learned to judge people as she judges horses. She looks beyond appearances and trappings to see what is within.

Because my child grew up with horses she has learned sportsmanship to a high degree. Everyone that competes fairly is a winner. Trophies and ribbons may prove someone a winner, but they do not prove someone is a horseman. She has also learned that some people will do anything to win, regardless of who it hurts. She knows that those who will cheat in the show ring will also cheat in every other aspect of their life and are not to be trusted.

Because my child grew up with horses she has self-esteem and an engaging personality. She can talk to anyone she meets with confidence, because she has to express herself to her horse with more than words. She knows the satisfaction of controlling and teaching a 1000 pound animal that will yield willingly to her gentle touch and ignore the more forceful and inept handling of those stronger than she is. She holds herself with poise and professionalism in the company of those far older than herself.

Because my child grew up with horses she has learned to plan ahead. She knows that choices made today can effect what happens five years down the road. She knows that you cannot care for and protect you investments without savings to fall back on. She knows the value of land and buildings. And that caring for you vehicle can mean the difference between easy travel or being stranded on the side of the road with a four horse trailer on a hot day.

When I look at what she has learned and what it will help her become, I can honestly say that I haven't 'wasted' a penny on providing her with horses. I only wish that all children had the same opportunities to learn these lessons from horses before setting out on the road to adulthood.



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JUST A HORSE From time to time, people tell me, "lighten up, it's just a horse," or, "that's a lot of money for just a horse".

They don't understand the distance traveled, the time spent or the costs involved for "just a horse." Some of my proudest moments have come about with "just a horse."

Many hours have passed and my only company was "just a horse," but I did not once feel slighted. Some of my saddest moments have been brought about by "just a horse," and in those days of darkness, the gentle touch of "just a horse" gave me comfort and reason to overcome the day. If you think it's "just a horse," then you will probably understand phrases like "just a friend," "just a sunrise," or "just a promise."

"Just a horse" brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust, and pure unbridled joy. "Just a horse" brings out the compassion and patience that make me a better person. Because of "just a horse" I will rise early, take long walks and look longingly to the future.

So for me and folks like me, it's not "just a horse" but an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future, the fond memories of the past, and the pure joy of the moment.

"Just a horse" brings out what's good in me and diverts my thoughts away from myself and the worries of the day.

I hope that someday they can understand that it's not "just a horse" but the thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being "just a man." ~

Anonymous







The winner...?

Flashing hooves of winged thunder,

traverse the track a magic moment.

Mane and tail of captured wind,

crown the winners flowered glory.

Deb Tompkins





Warning--- tear jerkers below





“I pray thee, Master, to care for me through long winter days and nights when I cannot earn my keep. Feed me and water me, and give me a good warm bed that I may keep well, and duly repay all your kindness when Trail Riding Season returns once more. Treat me kindly, and do not beat me when I do not understand what you want me to do, but watch me, please, and see if I might not be ill…my back, shoulders or feet may be sore. Remember that I cannot go my own way, but must obey your commands, My Master, and that I serve you well and faithfully, to the best of my ability. Please Master, have mercy on me. Protect me from the hot sun, the fall rain, and winters’ ice and snow. Remember that horses have long been the servants of man throughout the ages. We have pulled the prairie schooners from sea to shining sea, plowed the new fields, that man might grow the food to keep body and soul together. We helped build the mighty railroads; stayed with the cowboy through his long night watch under the lonely stars. We died heroically with man on the battlefield of nations. I shall do my part for I have learned to love thee well. So, my Master, when I am old, and can no longer perform on the trail, and thus serve you profitably, please do not turn me out to starve or sell me to some cruel man. Just let me die at the beloved hands of my Master, and God will bless thee well. I do not think this irreverent, if I ask this in the name of He who was born in a stable.”

~ Author Unknown

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The Blind Horse

Just up the road from my home is a field, with two horses in it.

From a distance, each looks like every other horse. But if you stop your car, or are walking by, you will notice something quite amazing.

Looking into the eyes of one horse will disclose that he is blind. His owner has chosen not to have him put down, but has made a good home for him.

This alone is amazing.

If nearby and listening, you will hear the sound of a bell. Looking around for the source of the sound, you will see that it comes from the smaller horse in the field. Attached to her halter is a small bell. It lets her blind friend know where she is, so he can follow her.

As you stand and watch these two friends, you'll see how she is always checking on him, and that he will listen for her bell and then slowly walk to where she is, trusting that she will not lead him astray. When she returns to the shelter of the barn each evening, she stops occasionally and looks back, making sure her friend isn't too far behind to hear the bell.

Like the owners of these two horses, God does not throw us away just because we are not perfect or because we have problems or challenges. He watches over us and even brings others into our lives to help us when we are in need.

Sometimes we are the blind horse being guided by the little ringing bell of those who God places in our lives. Other times we are the guide horse, helping others see.

Good friends are like this..........You don't always see them, but you know they are always there.

Please listen for my bell and I'll listen for yours


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"One Chance in a Million"

It happened so sudden, 12 years in my past,

For the rest of my life the injury would last.

The cars hit head-on, not a chance to slow down,

The next I remember, I lay on the ground.

My hip joint was crushed beyond all repair.

"You're too young to replace it," Doc said with a stare,

"You will walk again, but never will run."

These words hit me hard like a shot from a gun.

Ten years came and went, the pain more severe.

I said to my wife, "Time to replace it is here."

When the surgery was over, Doc said to my wife,

"He can't ride a horse for the rest of his life."

We own our own farm with a full riding stable,

So horses and riding put food on our table.

I could sell horses and tack, and some money I'd make,

But to ride one myself was a risk I can't take.

And then it did happen, one night at the sale,

As I stood selling halters inside of the rail.

My wife came up to me with that look in her eye.

She said, "There's a horse out back ready to die."

As I walked to the killer pen and looked over the fence,

There stood a starved gelding whose frame was immense.

His eyes were three inches sunk back in his head;

If he were lying down, you would have sworn he was dead.

He stood sixteen-one, weighed about four and a quarter,

His hair was three inches and not one-half shorter.

A skeleton with hide stood before my own eyes.

If he walked through the ring, it would be a surprise.

As the barn door slid open and they led him on in,

The auctioneer said, "Two hundred is where we'll begin."

The kill buyer said, "Two-oh-five's all I'll give."

I said, "I'll give two-ten just to see if he'll live."

The bids then quit coming, not a sound from the crowd,

The next word was "Sold" he said very loud.

As the trailer backed up to the wood loading gate,

I said, "Let's get him home before it's too late."

He had to have help to step up to the floor,

But we got him in and then closed the door.

As I drove home that night, I looked back at a glance

And said, "If he lives, we'll call him Last Chance."

Well, we made the trip home, and he lived through the night.

When the vet came next morning, he said, "What a sight."

We floated his teeth and trimmed all his feet,

Gave him wormer and thiamin and a little to eat.

My vet said his heart was as strong as a drum,

If we brought him along slowly the rest may just come.

Well, his weight starting coming and his health soon returned.

He showed us his love he must have thought that we earned.

He would whinny and nicker as I walked to the shed,

As if to say, "Thanks, 'cause of you, I'm not dead."

He would stroll the whole place without being penned,

He'd come when I call, just like man's best friend.

Three months had gone by since the night of the sale,

My wife had him tied on our old hitchin' rail.

I asked her, 'What's up?" as I just came outside.

She said, "It's time to see if he'll ride."

She threw on the blanket, saddle, bridle and said,

"The worst that could happen, I'll get tossed on my head."

As her seat hit the leather, he stood like a rock.

With a tap of her heels, he started to walk.

He reined to the left and he reined to the right,

The bit in his mouth he sure didn't fight.

He did what she asked without second thought.

She cantered him on and not once he fought.

When she returned from the ride with a tear in her eye,

She said, "He's the one, would you like to try?"

I thought to myself as I stood at his side,

If this giant's that gentle, why not take a ride?

It had been a long time, but the look on his face,

Said, "Hop on, my good friend, let's ride 'round this place."

We rode round the yard, then out through the gate,

This giant and me, it must have been fate.

He gave me back part of my life that I lost,

Knew then I'd keep him, no matter what cost.

I've been offered two-thousand, and once even three,

But no money on earth would buy him from me.

You see, we share something special, this gelding and me,

A chance to start over, a chance to be free.

And when the day comes that his heart beats no more,

I'll bury my friend just beyond my back door.

And over his grave I'll post a big sign,

"Here lies Last Chance, a true friend of mine."

Author Unknown


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Passages of Time

By Mary Gail Cooper

One pretty Saturday morning in midspring, I stood watching in wonderment as Sheba, our old gray mare, cantered in happy circles around our nine-year-old daughter. Helen was standing in the middle of the pasture, halter and lead rope in hand, looking completely exasperated as Sheba ran circles around her. After all, Helen had awakened early this morning in eager anticipation of riding her brand-new horse for the first time.

But not if she couldn't catch her! I watched as Sheba lightly sailed over a low practice jump hurdle set up in the pasture. With head high, ears pricked forward and tail sailing on the wind as Arabians tails are wont to do, this old horse was the picture of beauty and lighthearted gaiety. I glanced across the paddock and saw that my husband, too, had stopped to watch this scene play out. We had just bought Sheba three days earlier and had found her to be gentle and very approachable in the pasture. But now she was happily evading my daughter's attempt to halter her. However, she was not running away to the far corners of the pasture, just circling within a few yards of Helen. Then, as we stood watching, Sheba simply stopped running and walked quietly over to the water tank for a drink.

A few moments later, while Helen was pleasantly grooming Sheba, I asked my husband what he thought of the incident. "They looked to be 'happy circles' to me," he said. We both had a tingly sense of having received a message from this animal. She seemed to be expressing her gratitude for having been rescued from the crowded horse dealer's corral and coming to live with us. Indeed, before buying her, I had taken the old horse aside and quietly told her that if she would teach my young daughter to ride, she could have a home with us for as long as she lived. Now, Sheba seemed to be answering me with a resounding "yes!" Little did I know then just how much she would do for us.

It is a couple of years later and I am again standing in the same pasture, watching the same horse, the same gentle canter, but this time my handicapped daughter Mary Elizabeth is astride. Grandpa is with me, watching with tears in his eyes. Shaking his head in amazement, he is saying, "I never would have believed it." Helen went on to become quite an accomplished rider, pursuing such diverse equestrian activities as dressage lessons and exercising young Thoroughbreds on the track. But of my three children, it is Mary Elizabeth who loves horses as much as I do.

Although a couple of years older than Helen, she has always been developmentally behind her younger sister. Mary Elizabeth was born prematurely, deaf and with an impaired nervous system. She couldn't crawl or sit like other babies. She learned to walk with the support of a wheeled walker. She graduated to a pair of crutches in kindergarten. By first grade, she could walk unassisted but fell often. Her run looked more like a controlled fall. She found it difficult to stand without constantly moving to maintain her balance and she usually sat down or propped against something for support. In addition, she has severely reduced sensation in her arms and legs, which hampers her fine-motor control. Her deafness adds another handicap in itself.

But Mary Elizabeth loves animals, especially horses. As Helen began to learn how to ride, it soon became apparent that Mary Elizabeth intended to be included in this new activity. I was aware of riding programs for the handicapped and knew that Mary Elizabeth would benefit from riding. However, with her poor balance, I never thought that she would be able to ride without someone walking alongside the horse to steady her in the saddle. She never has been able to ride a bicycle and the two activities seemed similar in my mind.

One surprise followed another and through it all, I have been astonished repeatedly by Sheba's patience and understanding. Without any spoken words, the horse always does exactly what our deaf daughter "tells" her, such as positioning herself perfectly next to strange objects for mounting, or standing still with a slipped saddle hanging from her belly. Time and again, this old mare has demonstrated her intelligence, instead of the more usual and expected equine behaviors, to accommodate Mary Elizabeth.

Grandpa was right to be moved to tears of awe that day as we stood in the pasture witnessing Mary Elizabeth's demonstration of riding bareback at a canter across the field with only a set of reins clipped to the halter - a feat even her teenage brother wouldn't attempt! Over the years, Sheba has very generously shared her capable legs and willing spirit so that our very special daughter can experience an unaccustomed freedom and equality in her otherwise handicapped life.



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I AM FAMOUS NOW
I was born today. My Daddy is very FAMOUS. I have lots of half brothers and sisters. My Mother is very FAMOUS. Since she got FAMOUS, she has only had foals. No more loving hands, no more daily grooming....just foals. She is always sad when they leave her.
I left home today. I didn't want to go so I hid behind my mama. I didn't like you. But, one day, they said, I would be FAMOUS. I wonder, is famous the same as fun and good times? So, you picked me up and hauled me away, even though you were concerned that it took an hour to catch me.
I don't think you like me. My new home is far away. I am scared and afraid. My heart says BE BRAVE. My ancestors were. Did they go to good homes like mine?
I'm hungry because I can't eat too much, it will be bad for my bones. I can't play with the other horses because I might get hurt. I just wander around my small dirt paddock, and pretend I'm in a big green field with butterflies and robins and frogs.
I can't understand why they hate me! I am quiet but the man hits and says loud things.
The lady doesn't feed me good things like I had with my mother. She just throws dry, dusty hay on the ground, then goes away, before I can get too close for touching and petting. Sometimes my food smells bad but I eat it anyway.
Today I had a baby. He is so wonderful and warm. Am I FAMOUS now??
I wish I could play with him but I am so tired. I am so young that it is hard to be a good mother. I am so hungry! I wish someone would throw me some food.
I am also very thirsty. He got cold during the night and we have no shelter I couldn't make him warm again. We are very weak. Maybe if I whinny someone will notice us and give us food and water.
Today they took us away. to a place with many other horses. There were lots of people and loud noise. Someone grabbed my foal. He was so scared. That was the last time I saw him.
Is my baby FAMOUS now? I hope so because I miss him. He is gone.
I was put in a trailer with many others in it. It is crowded and smells of urine, fear and sickness. Why am I here?!?
I was beautiful like my ancestors. Now I am hungry, dirty, in pain and unwanted. Maybe the worst is unwanted.
No one came, though I tried to be good. No one spoke to me in gentle tones or stroked my soft neck. I am in a small pen with many horses. I am SCARED and ALONE.
Today someone came. They chased us from our pen and into a room. One by one we were herded into a chute.
I hear screams of agony, sounds of thrashing, and then silence. Someone came and put me in the chute. Someone reached in and patted my nose. I felt tired and laid my head over the last one who cared. I am ready for what will come next. Today someone cared.
I AM FAMOUS NOW.

~ Author Unknown ~

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A brother and sister had made their usual hurried, obligatory pre-Christmas visit to the little farm where dwelt their elderly parents with their small herd of horses. The farm was where they had grown up and had been named Lone Pine Farm because of the huge pine, which topped the hill behind the farm. Through the years the tree had become a talisman to the old man and his wife, and a landmark in the countryside. The young siblings had fond memories of their childhood here but the city hustle and bustle added more excitement to their lives, and called them away to a different life.

The old folks no longer showed their horses, for the years had taken their toll, and getting out to the barn on those frosty mornings was getting harder but it gave them a reason to get up in the mornings and a reason to live. They sold a few foals each year, and the horses were their reason for joy in the morning and contentment at day's end.

Angry, as they prepared to leave, the young couple confronted the old folks. "Why do you not at least dispose of 'The Old One." She is no longer of use to you. It's been years since you've had foals from her. You should cut corners and save so you can have more for yourselves. How can this old worn out horse bring you anything but expense and work? Why do you keep her anyway?"

The old man looked down at his worn boots, holes in the toes, scuffed at the barn floor and replied, " Yes I could use a pair of new boots. His arm slid defensively about the Old One's neck as he drew her near with gentle caressing he rubbed her softly behind her ears. He replied softly, "We keep her because of love. Nothing else, just love."

Baffled and irritated, the young folks wished the old man and his wife a Merry Christmas and headed back toward the city as darkness stole through the valley. The old couple shook their heads in sorrow that it had not been a happy visit. A tear fell upon their cheeks. How is it that these young folks do not understand the peace of the love that filled their hearts?

So it was, that because of the unhappy leave-taking, no one noticed the insulation smoldering on the frayed wires in the old barn. None saw the first spark fall. None but the "Old One".

In a matter of minutes, the whole barn was ablaze and the hungry flames were licking at the loft full of hay. With a cry of horror and despair, the old man shouted to his wife to call for help as he raced to the barn to save their beloved horses. But the flames were roaring now, and the blazing heat drove him back. He sank sobbing to the ground, helpless before the fire's fury. His wife back from calling for help cradled him in her arms, clinging to each other, they wept at their loss.

By the time the fire department arrived, only smoking, glowing ruins were left, and the old man and his wife exhausted from their grief huddled together before the barn. They were speechless as they rose from the cold snow covered ground. They nodded thanks to the firemen as there was nothing anyone could do now. The old man turned to his wife, resting her white head upon his shoulders as his shaking old hands clumsily dried her tears with a frayed red bandana. Brokenly he whispered, "We have lost much, but God has spared our home on this eve of Christmas. Let us gather strength and climb the hill to the old pine where we have sought comfort in times of despair. We will look down upon our home and give thanks to God that it has been spared and pray for our beloved most precious gifts that have been taken from us.

And so, he took her by the hand and slowly helped her up the snowy hill as he brushed aside his own tears with the back of his old and withered hand. The journey up the hill was hard for their old bodies in the steep snow. As they stepped over the little knoll at the crest of the hill, they paused to rest, looking up to the top of the hill the old couple gasped and fell to their knees in amazement at the incredible beauty before them. Seemingly, every glorious, brilliant star in the heavens was caught up in the glittering, snow-frosted branches of their beloved pine, and it was aglow with heavenly candles. And poised on its top most bough, a crystal crescent moon glistened like spun glass. Never had a mere mortal created a Christmas tree such as this. They were breathless as the old man held his wife tighter in his arms.

Suddenly, the old man gave a cry of wonder and incredible joy. Amazed and mystified, he took his wife by the hand and pulled her forward. There, beneath the tree, in resplendent glory, a mist hovering over and glowing in the darkness was their Christmas gift. Shadows glistening in the night light.

Bedded down about the "Old One" close to the trunk of the tree, was the entire herd, safe.

At the first hint of smoke, she had pushed the door ajar with her muzzle and had led the horses through it. Slowly and with great dignity, never looking back, she had led them up the hill, stepping cautiously through the snow. The foals were frightened and dashed about. The skittish yearlings looked back at the crackling, hungry flames, and tucked their tails under them as they licked their lips and hopped like rabbits. The mares that were in foal with a new years crop of babies, pressed uneasily against the "Old One" as she moved calmly up the hill and to safety beneath the pine. And now, she lay among them and gazed at the faces of the old man and his wife. Those she loved she had not disappointed. Her body was brittle with years, tired from the climb, but the golden eyes were filled with devotion as she offered her gift---

Because of love. Only Because of love.

Tears flowed as the old couple shouted their praise and joy, And again the peace of love filled their hearts.