Blog Bio Cowboys, Horse, a different Dream

My dad often said as soon as I began to crawl, I’d head toward the nearest horse. When my folks went to the hospital to have my younger brother, I got to stay with a farm family who had a horse. At four years old, I thought I’d gone to heaven when they allowed me to ride. God was good.

In Clitheral Minnesota, we didn’t have a TV set, but I walked across the street to a friend’s house to watch westerns such as Roy Rogers and the Lone Ranger. I even had Roy Rogers paper dolls. (Not for me sissy girl paper dolls.) In Wisconsin, I had a longer walk to watch TV. I prayed for a horse of my own.

When Dad told us he’d taken a church in Wyoming, my older sister groaned. I couldn’t wait to go. The parsonage was across the street from the home of a friend who had his own horse, Rocket. Both Karin and I got to ride the paint horse with our friend. Rocket was a gentle ride unless you tried to force him into a trot when riding double. Then you’d find yourself on the ground—often on one of the many cactus patches. We still did it. (Kids don’t always do the smartest things.) Riding Rocket gave me experience.

Finally, when we moved to a country church in Northwest Kansas, I was able to get a retired show mare through the 4-H program. I took care of the horse. I rode the horse. The deal was that after breeding the chestnut mare, the resulting foal was mine to keep. Finally, in 7th grade, my dream came true. I had my own horse. God was indeed good.

Unfortunately, at about the same time I contracted Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis. I spent the next ten years in a wheelchair rather than on a horse. However, having the horse, and having to plan how to train my foal, kept me motivated to live instead of quitting when I could see no future but pain and limitations. My thought went more to a question. “What are you thinking God?”

Eventually, we no longer lived where I could keep my horse. I agreed to sell my horse as a polo pony out East. I kept my horse interest by reading books—fiction and non-fiction with and about horses. I followed the Triple Crown. Secretariat’s story helped me as I dealt with massive reconstructive surgery and to finally walk again. If Secretariat could become a victor maybe I could as well.

When I began to write and sell books, many historical in nature, I could write with authenticity about horses. Though I really never rode horses after I got sick, my love motivated me, helped me through rough times, and assisted in my chosen career. I may not have become a jockey or a horsemaster, but I learned and grew and walked again, at least partly, because of my obsession with horses. I can’t help but smile. Guess God did know what He was doing after all. God is indeed good.

© 2023 Carolyn R Scheidies

Hub column published 2/22/2023

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