January 24, 2008
By Natalie Granados, Brooklyn, NY

“This has to be the most beautiful I have ever seen,” I said to myself, whistling. The sun is almost at its peak, and the mountains look so green. I am off to take Melao, the jumpiest of my father’s horses, to get a drink of water and move him to a greener grazing spot. Wow! He sure does have a lot of energy and, boy, does he look beautiful. I crossed the canal and passed through the barbed wire gate and now I am here, standing before the horse. His muscular, velvet colored body radiant in the sun. The quick movements of his muscles are noticeable as he runs in a circle around the post he is tied to. The steps are simple for moving the horse, even if the horse is as skitterish as Melao is. First, find a way to get a hold of the rope the horse is tied to and bring the horse to a stop. Then, untie the rope from its post and walk or ride the horse to the desired place and ¡listo! you’re all done. Now, I just have to put these steps into effect and I’ll…

Fua! “¡No puedo ver! I can’t see! I can’t see! Carlos! Carlos! I can’t see!”

Black. It’s all black, I begin to cry. This can’t be happening! I don’t wanna be blind! I don’t wanna be blind!

“¡Martín! What happened?” Carlos is grabbing my hand leading me back to the house.
“¡Ay no sé! It was all so fast!” My eyes are burning, tears are rolling, but I keep going, trying to remember. “I was watching the horse run while…I was trying to…to get the rope and I guess it got stuck on the bush. Next thing I know it…it snapped and now…I…I…I can’t see!”
It was the scariest day off my life. The only medicine that my father was able to give me was artificial tears for red eyes. All I did for the remainder of that day and that night was cry and rest until thankfully my vision returned the next day.

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