In our small group of helpers—our small family at the barn—some voices are louder than others. Our voices, in a single word, can say everything and nothing about us. Siri’s voice is loud. Through the noise of clinking stirrups and jingling bridles at the stable, her voice reaches out and offers a guiding hand. Kaylin’s voice is uncertain. Hers is the voice of someone still learning. Her voice is ready to learn new words. Not unlike Kaylin’s voice, Olivia’s voice is a shy sound that sometimes states silly things. Sarah’s voice is full of uncertainty. Her voice is like a dripping faucet, never ending until you think you’re about to go insane. Brit’s voice is new to me. I haven’t yet figured out what lies behind the quiet remarks and soft laughter.
My voice is mine alone. As I grow older, I find my voice taking command. My voice has begun to mimic Siri’s, but it still remains uniquely me. My voice is full of silly sounds and seemingly meaningless phrases. My voice likes to make people smile and give a warm embrace to those that need it. My voice steps in to calm the sometimes anxious equines. My voice speaks softly to my hoofed friends most of the time. Sometimes it is harsh and impatient, but it is always mine.