Today's Helping of Chicken Soup for the Soul

[Guest guest]

Pegasus' Wings

By Vera -Gervais

I've always loved horses, and for some time I'd been

looking for a volunteer opportunity in my new community.

The idea that I might be able to pursue both interests at

once hadn't actually crossed my mind. So I couldn't get to

the phone fast enough when I saw an ad in the paper about a

search for volunteers at a therapeutic riding center for

handicapped children.

" Yes, we're still looking for people, " the woman told

me. " We're having a training session for new volunteers

this Saturday. You're welcome to come. "

" Thanks, " I answered, barely containing my enthusiasm,

" I'll be there. "

I joined a small group of new volunteers that day. We

were perfect strangers with an instant connection, all

drawn there by the same potent mix of heart and soul - a

passion for helping, a passion for horses, and a simple

knowing that we had come to the right place. By the end of

the training session, we all knew we'd be back for the

first of many weekly riding classes together.

That first Saturday, ten children between the ages of

eight and twelve showed up. Ten struggling young bodies and

ten eager, loving smiles greeted us. " This is Robbie, " said

the instructor, placing a gentle hand on each small

shoulder as she conducted a round of introductions. " And

this is . " We went around the circle of excited

faces. All the children faced some level of physical or

mental challenge - sometimes both. had multiple

sclerosis, lived with cerebral palsy, with

Down Syndrome, and Robbie a spinal cord injury. I marveled

at these children, healthy souls and wholesome appetites

for living shining through their bodily constraints.

The following Saturday, I arrived at the stables in

time to groom my assigned horse before class, put on his

tack and ensure that he was sound, calm and class-ready for

his small rider. This week, I would be handling Stripe, a

speckled-gray Appaloosa with comfortably rounded sides and

an indulgent, ever-patient nature. Today, Stripe was the

designated therapy horse for nine-year old , a victim

of muscular dystrophy.

Curly auburn hair framing her delicate, pale face,

arrived at the stables in a wheelchair. The spokes

glistened in the sun as her mother helped her up, steadied

her and introduced us. My eyes met 's - an exchange

full of shared excitement and anticipation. " has been

waiting impatiently for hours, " her mother explained with a

smile.

We set about preparing for the ride. I fitted and

attached 's safety helmet and adjusted Stripe's

specially adapted saddlery. I helped her mount and shared

her triumphant grin as she settled into the saddle, perched

above and beyond her limitations. I led Stripe around the

arena during the class, quietly coaching both horse and

rider as the instructor led the group from the center of

the ring. We walked, trotted and moved together for an

hour. 's tortured body gradually relaxed into Stripe's

fluid movements, becoming one with the animal.

In silent awe, I let the wordless, poignant

communication between and Stripe unfold. Acutely

sensitive to her well being, Stripe intuitively softened

his gait at the slightest perception of 's imbalance

or discomfort in the saddle. The tone of her voice induced

the same effect, even though she was unable to use verbal

commands that the horse was trained to recognize. Surprise,

delight, hesitation, fear - Stripe understood and responded

patiently, lovingly - like a great teacher.

At the end of the class, I helped dismount.

Color in her cheeks now, she smiled radiantly and arched

her thin arms around Stripe's lowered neck. He kept his

head down. Burying her face in his mane, murmured

softly, " I love you, Stripe. " I stood motionless a few feet

away, touched by a moment of uncommon beauty.

The magic drew me back each week. No two Saturdays

were the same. Rotations of therapy horses and riders gave

volunteers the opportunity to get to know each animal and

child. Every Saturday offered a glimpse of an intensely

intimate connection between equine and human spirit. Every

Saturday revealed the power of this fabled four-legged

creature to triumph over a child's physical and mental

adversity. Every Saturday, a child held the reins of

freedom and borrowed Pegasus' wings.

For me, volunteering was a personal journey into

unexpected enrichment and inspiration. I helped small

children revel in another realm of physical and spiritual

being, a space only their horses could create for them. I

saw these children empowered and renewed by their equine

companions. I rediscovered my deep love for horses and drew

lessons from their gentle ways. And last but not least, I

learned that giving yields greater generosity than it asks.

Inspired by my experience, I picked up the phone one

day and called my brother at the family farm where I had

spent my teenage years. " How's Cowboy doing? " I asked of my

own horse.

" He's just fine, " my brother replied, " but I think he

feels a bit forgotten. "

And that's why, a week later, Cowboy came out of semi-

retirement and was transported to his new home hundreds of

miles away - with me. Now Cowboy, my retired show horse

with huge brown eyes, a stripe down his back and a penchant

for pleasing people, volunteers too.