The Miraculous Healing Power
Of "HORSE"
By Larry Palmer
It is hard to trust information that comes to us with anonymous participants. However sometimes it is necessary and appropriate. This is one of those times. Permission was granted to tell this story.
The granddaughter of my oldest friend hit a wall a few years ago. Not a brick wall or freeway wall but that wall many of us plow into when we are very young. The wall of confusion, frustration, despair, and loss of hope. At age twelve, an only child, her parents divorced. She was, although she never admitted it, devastated by her world suddenly coming apart. When asked how she was doing she would always say "fine". That was my first clue That her life was a lot of things but "fine" wasn't one of them. The easy answer, all too available to teenagers, led her into drugs, alcohol, and boys. Of course, she found no answers at the bottom of a vodka bottle or in a pill but she kept looking until her life was bankrupt in every possible way. By age fourteen, her life was a mess. She moved in with her grandparents so she could be home schooled and monitored 24/7. It worked and after a year of successes and a minor relapse, she began to grab hold ofher life and moved back with her mom. All too fast, she had been forced to grow up when she wasn't nearly finished being a child.
This talented and charming young lady, whom I have had the pleasure of knowing since she was a baby, looked like she was going to save her own life. Her grades came up. She joined some real "reality shows" through programs like AA. She came to be dependable, accountable, and responsible. But I felt she needed something of her very own, that she had discovered and that was hers alone. Then she came to my birthday party last year. We stood for a while, petting my two Paso Fino horses. She told me how much she loved horses. Smiling, I reminded her that this very horse, Cal, had been the first horse she ever touched or sat on. Her face lit up as only a youngsters face can do and she said, "Yes! Yes! “I remember,” she said excitedly. "Wasn't I about six? And you took my photo with my hideous round wire-framed glasses that made me look like an owl. And you wrote a story about me that was put in the newspaper". Always eloquent, I replied,"Yep".
Then I thought I saw it. You all know what the "it” is I am referring to. The "it" that says I've got the syndrome known as "Equus Amor" the "Love-of-horse". And all you TEN readers know that syndrome in a teenaged girl trumps boys, booze and other chemicals. The high we get from "horse"
is a natural high that God clearly intended for us to enjoy. Pouncing on the opportunity (pouncing is something I do well although not as fast as in my younger years) the offer was made to gift her six lessons with the following conditions. 1. Mom had to approve. 2. The six lessons had to take place with my trainer. I know what and how they teach and it's a lot more than sitting on a horse. Things like commitment, accountability, honor, integrity, and the absolute requirement of dealing with a horse -trust. 3. She had to show up on time for her lessons (45 minutes fromhome) and do everything the trainer told her to do. And 4. Keep up her grades and not get into trouble - of any kind. She agreed and so did mom.
After the first six lessons, her grandparents bought her six more lessons. Then her mom bought her another six. She then started buying her own lessons. She was hooked. Lessons moved toward shows. This talented, bright young woman found her life suddenly full of good things, great things. The dead-end roads she had been traveling disappeared like spit on a summer Texas highway at noon. Her mom became her best friend. Mom could often be found leaning on the rails at the arena watching her daughter discover the world of equus. Of course, the, now sixteen, now a driver with her own car decided she wanted her own horse, which she soon found, a just-right Arab gelding. Shortly thereafter Mom found a horse she just couldn't resist and they became a two-horse family. The two are already talking about long rides into the sunset. I hope they invite me along someday.
The last time we visited, I advised her she would likely encounter a condition called "wet-mane" with her new horse friend. The name was madeup. Thought it sounded semi-medical, interesting, and sorta cool. Almost hysterical, she asked "What is that?"She thought it was some dreaded equine disease. Laughing, I said, "No, it is a condition but not a disease. Folks just naturally tell their horses about life's disappointments, challenges, and broken hearts. He will never criticize you or judge you or care how you look, or think your feelings are silly. The best way to talkto him is to bury your face in his mane and cry. He will just accept you as you are and listen patiently. He will love you more unconditionally than any human is capable of doing. He will go against his fifty million yearsof evolution and ride through fire if you ask him because he loves you and trusts you. You and he will share a sacred and unique bond. Hold it dearly. Use it often. He won't mind that his mane is wet".
What a special and wonderful reward this extraordinary, bright, beautiful young woman has given me.to allow me to be a tiny spark in her rocket.I will always be grateful.
As I do with all my horse articles, I read this to Cal and Dono. Cal said, "You never cried in my mane. Whined a time or two but no real tears."
Dono added, "Don't start that crying stuff with me. I got a white mane.
Tears turn it yellow".
Like I said, horses are understanding. More than you want sometimes.
LP
