As we ride across country these beautiful autumn days, we’ re reminded at every turn, at every new view, what a wonderful land we live in, and how very lucky we are to be here to enjoy it all. For now it is harvest time, and every field is bustling with activity. Our valley is, a diversified one, so here we see a field of lush green hop vines being pulled down bit by bit, and nearby a drier in full operation. A field or two away a farmer is gathering in his 3rd or 4th cutting of alfalfa hay. The apple harvest is in full swing. Some of the trees are so heavily laden with bright shiny red apples they look like Christmas decorations, and are a gentle reminder that that time too is approaching. The pumpkins in the fields and the turkeys strutting so proudly around the farm yards are the typical Thanksgiving decorations in vibrant living beauty. The roadside fruit and vegetable stands have popped up overnight like some of the mushrooms they sell, and here one can feast his eyes on melons of many varieties, green and red peppers, onion, tomatoes, potatoes, yellow apples, red apples, green apples, and more apples.
On one such ride, we met Jerry Ingham, a visitor from the Coast. Jerry was with his parents. When he saw us riding our Walkers by the fruit stand where they had stopped to make some purchases, he hurried out to stop us. Jerry is 14, and bubbling over with all the enthusiasm of that age.“ May I see your Walkers? I have one too!” were his greeting words. And then we heard about his Walker, and, in
By Aletha Wiehl
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the hearing, we learned a bit about Jerry too.
All his young life, Jerry had wanted a horse. But Jerry was the oldest of four children and there was never quite enough money to buy a horse and take care of one. So Jerry continued to read about horses, and look at pictures of horses, and talk about horses, and dream about horses, and the Someday when he would have one of his own. And then one day, the miracle happened.
It was the first day of summer vacation, and Jerry had packed a sandwich and had started walking across town toward the hills and the evergreens and the little brook that just might furnish a trout or two for breakfast the next morning, but was certain to provide a happy first day of vacation. He had walked beyond all the houses and businesses and had just passed the last building before he came to the country, the old slaughter house and cannery. In recent years the cannery had been closed permanently, and the buildings were showing the signs of age and neglect. Once in awhile the old corrals that were still standing would house a few cattle for a night or two while there waiting for shipment. And, sometimes the Humane Society would use them to hold a horse, or cow, or sheep that may have strayed, until the owner appeared, or the time limit for holding them was up. Then, if they were healthy, homes were found for them. If they were ill, or crippled, or in pain, at the end of the waiting period, the Society quickly and painlessly put them out of their misery. Today the corrals were all empty. So Jerry swung along with his eyes toward the tall fir trees.
And then he saw it. Right ahead, in the shadows of the first trees, stood a horse. The shadows were kind, and from that distance, the horse looked beautiful. But, as he drew closer, Jerry saw that every rib was visible, and the hip bones stuck out like those on a starved cow, and the horse was standing on three legs, gingerly resting the other down from time to time. His head was hanging down’ till it almost touched the ground, and, for a moment Jerry thought the animal might drop down, right before his eyes, never to get up again.“ Hey, you!” Jerry shouted. At least he meant to shout, but actually it came out more of a whisper. But it was loud enough for the horse to hear. And up came the head.‘ Way up! And he looked right at Jerry. That’ s when Jerry really saw the horse. Not the ribs, and the pronounced hip bones, and the pain and weakness, but the wonderful kindness and courage in the eyes, the proud set of the head, the beautiful symmetry of the way the horse was put together. And Jerry thought he was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen!
The horse too seemed to feel from that first moment that Jerry was somebody special. As Jerry reached out his hand to touch the dull coat, the animal gave an almost inaudible nicker, and painfully tried to take that last step between them. But the nicker ended in a moan as he put his full weight on that uplifted leg. Jerry looked at the foot to make sure there was nothing in it to cause trouble, but it was plain to see the swelling in the leg itself.
All thoughts of the picnic were gone now. The one thing to do was to get food and water for the horse. And, after that to lead, coax, and encourage him into the nearby corrals. Later, Jerry checked every where he could to find out who the owner had been, where the horse had come from, but the sheriff’ s office, the Humane Society, and finally, a one line ad in the paper, all brought no results. It seemed the horse had been dropped from heaven for Jerry’ s special benefit.
A rather doubtful benefit it seemed to Jerry’ s parents. To them the horse looked like a bag of bones
NOVEMBER, 1964 23