Jaci Dawn

Isn’t that every horse-crazy kid’s dream? I was well into my teens before I finally gave up on hoping to hear a nicker from the garage where I was certain my folks would hide that beautiful roan colt. I just could not let go of the fact that my dad was not going to give in and let me have a horse.

Fast forward to married with two small children and homeless. Well, sort of homeless: we were in the throes of buying a single-wide trailer to put on a friend’s property. We’d already lost everything it seemed and we were facing a second Christmas in an apartment in Portland where we had to hide our dog in the garage: moving into an old single-wide in a rural trailer park actually sounded like Heaven.

I had a friend at the time who prayed for a free horse and got a 30-year old Thoroughbred rescue horse that was no longer rideable. I remember saying aloud that if I were to pray for a free horse, she wouldn’t be 30 years old. After all, if you are going to ask God for something free, shouldn’t you just shoot for the moon? If He is big enough to provide something free, surely He is big enough to come through with what you really want.

Mind you, I do not believe in manipulating God. We have to accept His “NO!” just like we had to accept that Dad was not going to give in and hide a pony in the garage. Some things are just not going to happen.

But having opened my mouth, I unleashed something. I didn’t just say I wanted a younger horse. I told my little circle of acquaintances that I wanted a roan Arabian mare that was younger than 15 and right around 15 hands tall. Gentle. Like I said, if you’re going to ask GOD for something, shoot for the moon. Don’t be bashful. Tell Him what it is you really, really, really want.

Had I confessed this desire to friends, they would have dead-panned with a simple reply, “Jaci, that’s exactly what you ask God for every year. You have asked God for that exact horse since you were 8 years old and could discern between a roan and a sorrel.” And an Arabian and a Thoroughbred.

But I told my acquaintances and they believed me.

And apparently, God decided to change His mind.

Because one of those acquaintances brought me a little yellow slip of paper from one of those grocery store bulletin boards. FREE horse. 2 years old, Arabian, Green-broke.

Green-broke means: mostly wild. I knew that. But my heart was beating at 210 bpm and I was hyper-ventilating and Don said,. “We’ll just call and drive over to look at her, OK?”

I could NOT believe that the man of my dreams was actually offering to drive over to look at a horse. I fainted. Well, not literally, but I wanted to.

We made the call and the man who owned the horse told us where he lived. When we arrived there, he just pointed in the general direction of his barn and said, “You can go look at her.”

Just like that. She was a skinny little snow-flake Arab-cross mare standing in a stall. She nickered when we came around the corner. I left Don and the kids in the pasture and entered the stall by myself.

She was so sweet and gentle and adorable. I was head over heels in love with her in under ten seconds.

Her background was sad: someone had a registered Arabian mare they sold to the owner of a well-known Appaloosa stallion. The mare evidently never “took” and the Appaloosa stallion’s owner was disgusted with the little Arabian mare. He sold the mare at a very low price. The man who purchased her soon realized the mare had, indeed, “taken” and was with foal. She birthed a healthy filly on March 13, 1988. The owner of the Appaloosa stallion refused to acknowledge that the filly was his stallion’s offspring and would not provide papers.

She belonged to the kids of the family, but they were in their teens suddenly and kept forgetting to take care of her. The man (their father) told them that if they didn’t take care of the horse, he was going to give her away. And I was the lucky recipient.

She had papers going back the Arabian side to Hallany Mistanny. But there was noting on the Appaloosa side and she looked all Appy: little snowflake coat with a broad white blanket across her back and rump. They called her “Hallany’s Whisper” after her dam, “Shandar’s Hallany”.

I found a friend who had a horse trailer. He rolled his eyes and said he’d help me haul her out to the trailer park and pasture where she would live with his five horses. After he saw her, he apologized: she loaded into the trailer like a pro and he admitted she was not a bad horse to look at.

It was the week after Christmas 1989 that we brought her home. My horse for Christmas. My perfect horse: a 2-year old green broke Arab/Appy cross that loved kids, tolerated dogs, adopted cats, and put up with almost everything we did to her. With a little help from friends, I trained her.

We owned her until she was 13. I still miss her. And I can’t help but remember how God put a horse “under the Christmas tree” for me one year.

Of course, no horse is “free” after you pay for the vet, the farrier and feed. But in the long run, what horse-crazy kid cares about the expense? We just want the horse.

It was the most impulsive prayer I have ever uttered (and in public!) but it is the one answer I have treasured in my heart because somehow that horse meant that God really did love ME. I know – that’s kind of selfish and crazy, but you know what? I don’t even care.

And someday I hope to own another horse as sweet as that horse.