The Mare

Ginger

That day was the first time it looked like she was really riding a horse. It wasn’t because it was trotting — I’d seen her on the white horse when it was trotting. But then, she was just on the white horse and it was trotting. She was riding that big brown horse; even I could see the difference.

The lesson was over then, and I went with them into the barn. I stood to the side and watched Velvet secure the horse in the middle of the barn and begin to groom it. The way she moved was very different from the way she moved around the house; there was no deference or absentmindedness in her, just purpose. She looked bigger, stronger, and completely comfortable with the huge animal. “She’s a natural,” said Pat. “It takes most kids twice as many lessons to get where she got today. Too bad she’s leaving next week.”