(Crystal lake Il. USA.)
My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I fidgeted and played with the car seat belt. Open pastures and seemingly endless fence streaked past the window.
"Well Sophia, here we are," said Mom as we pulled into a gravel driveway as the cars tires crunched nosily.
I could hardly contain my excitement. I guess I should explain why I was so exited. I've always been a horse crazy girl since before I could remember. All my life I've begged my parents to take horseback riding lessons. I knew what the my mom was was going to be before I even asked for riding lessons.
"Honey, we know how much you love horses, but you need to understand riding is an expensive sport. It takes money we don't have."
I understood and stopped asking so much after that. I knew my dad had a lot on his shoulders, providing for a family of six was hard enough without me adding to the expenses. Even though I couldn't ride horses, I still learned about them. I read every book I could find on them. My passion for horses grew, and I learned everything I could so I would be ready for the day ware I would have a horse of my own.
Finally, for my eleventh birthday my grandma bought me riding lessons. I was thrilled. What was really awesome was, the place ware I got to ride bred and sold Arabian horses.
Arabians were my favorite horses ever! Anyway, here we are now, in the parking lot of Forthwind Farms. Arabians whinnied and pranced around in their lush green pastures. I ran into the barn. The wonderful smell of horses and hay hit me. It smelled so good, I got dizzy. Just then I heard someone call out.
"Hi there, how can I help you?"
"I'm here for a riding lesson," I replied.
"Oh, okay, are you Sophia?" The woman asked. I told her that I was.
After that, she told me her name was Allie and she would be my riding instructor. She helped me tack up the horse I would be riding. The horse was an old Arab Saddlebred cross and was named Guided. Riding was a glorious event that ended all too quickly.
After a few lessons, I moved onto a harder horse to ride. This new horse was younger, and loved to go fast! He was a grey Arabian gelding with a few brown spots; the horse's name was Chez. I thought he would be hard to ride, but he and I clicked. He soon became my favorite horse in the whole barn. All I had to do when I was riding was think what I wanted him to do, and he'd go ahead and do it.
I'm so glad after all these years of longing to hang out with horses, I finally was able to. The reason I wrote this story was to encourage other girls who were like me. Girls who love horses who either can't ride, or don't have a horse of their own. Don't give up on your passion for horses!
Remember, dreams do come true.