I was two years old when the abuse started. Small things like calling me names soon grew into full-blown cult abuse. Everyone hurt me, from the little monsters at school to my own big monster, which I saw whenever he decided to lumber over. Everyone except Mom and the horses, that is. The horses, oh, the horses; Hoss was my first love. A jolly brown giant with pigeon toes and a tiny white squiggle right between his soft, round portals to heaven, he was the best thing that ever happened to me. Yes, Hoss was where I went that day to moan and groan about the unfairness of life itself. So I was, minding everyone’s business but my own, the wind in my short, fluffy hair. Silent tears rolled down my temples and watered the bothersome grass beneath me as I lay. All I could hear was the munching of grass, the sniffling of sniffles, and the strange noise of a car slowing on the road next to me.
“HEY! HEY YOU!” I startled and froze in fear. They found me! My world was once again crashing down around me. Maybe if I don’t move… I heard footsteps rushing toward me.
“Hello? Little b-b-girl? Can you hear me?”
Great. Now I look like a boy. That’s just insult to injury right there. “Yeah. Can I help you?” My voice was strong, but my knees were weak as I sat up and looked around to see an elderly lady trying to squat behind me.
“Oh thank goodness! Little lady, I thought you were hurt! You are ok, aren’t you?”Little lady…whatever you say. Before I knew it, grass was fussily being pulled out of my hair as I was scolded. “That’s a big, powerful animal! Be careful laying so close to it!”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied and nodded respectfully, awestruck. She’s so nice! I thought as the woman began struggling to get up, and I popped to my feet and reached down to help her. She rambled on about her granddaughter while I smiled and nodded, trying to listen but lost within my own thoughts. She obviously doesn’t know anything about horses. Look how quickly she judged Hoss! I’d better keep her away before she does something dangerous. Starting to inch towards her car, I began closing the conversation. “If there’s nothing else I can help you with…” I trailed off as the woman stiffened and forged a smile.
“No thank you,” she replied in a too-sweet voice, and turned around to return to her husband as I just stood there, shocked at the impact of my actions. Finally, I snapped out of my trance and was able to shout a great big thank you to the couple just as the door began closing. They must have heard me, for their faces became genuine again and their stiff waves loosened into friendly country ones.
Our lives returning to normal, I put Hoss in the pasture and they continued doing whatever it is that older folks drive around doing. Pulling the last bits of grass out of my hair, I smiled at the already distant memory of one of my first encounters with kindness. “Love is patient, love is kind…”