believing in dreams

Our sweet Lily-girl wants a horse.

She talks about them. She writes stories about them. She draws them. She plays with toy horses. And stuffed horses. She reads books about them. She paces around our yard showing me exactly where the horse pen will go.

And at least five times a day she asks me when she is going to get her first horse.

And every time I do my best to nurture her dream, to trust that at some point it will happen, to encourage her to talk about every juicy little detail like how she will get a miniature horse first so she can get used to being around horses, then a Pinto (because we read in a book that they are good for beginning riders), then a Palomino, and then finally a dancing Lipizzaner (once she is an experienced rider).

And I drive all kinds of zig-zagging routes around town so we can admire her favorite horses. And I walk with her to our neighbor’s farm to visit with thier horses.

And I sit back and watch our magical manifestor, who does not yet understand the limitations of bank accounts and family budgets, attract more and more equine friends each day.

*** *** *** ***

One morning, a couple of weeks ago, as we were heading out to school, I spotted something in the field near our house.

“Oh Lily! You are not going to believe this,” I said, pointing to a horse and rider I’d never seen in our neighborhood before.

We dashed to the top of the driveway and then together, with Quinn in tow, made our way to the field, quietly taking a seat on a rock to watch.

After a short time the rider directed her horse over to us. It was as if looking at Lily she saw herself as a five-year-old, and she began talking directly to Lily, telling her stories about her first pony and the fun they used to have galloping through the fields near her house.

She patiently answered questions and for a good 10 minutes she talked to Lily about horse care, riding, and the various gates of the horse, which she encouraged Lily to practice on a drum.

She told us where she lives and how the field near our house is her favorite place to ride. Then, in typical small-town fashion, we discovered where our circles of friends overlap and explored our common interests (beyond horses).

And then it was time for us to say good-bye and head to school.

My sweet girl practically floated back to the car and could not wait to tell her teachers and friends every detail of her encounter.

Later at dinner, she retold the story to Papa. He listened attentively, but on more than one occasion gave me the look.

John and I are not completely in agreement on how to handle Lily’s horse obsession. He would prefer that I stop encouraging her because the reality is that we cannot afford a horse (of any size). At this point even paying for Lily to take riding lessons is beyond our family’s budget.

I truly respect his feelings. I understand the reality of our financial situation and I am careful not to make promises to my children that I know I can’t keep.

But I also believe that there are infinite ways for dreams to come true and the biggest, most important step we can take, for ourselves and for our children, is to believe in them.

I may not be able to buy you a horse, Baby Girl. But I promise I’ll do everything I can to help you live out your dreams!