When my older sister Dicy was around sixteen years old, my parents bought her a horse. Dad built a little one-stall barn with a tack room and Midnight came to our place to live. I don't remember her, but she was part of family folklore.
The barn is still there. It was turned into a pool house when I was a little kid, but there was a sign that the building once had a different purpose. Dicy had carved a little two-dimensional horse and our dad hung it between the diamond pane windows that faced the house. When I was a little girl, I was in awe of that horse. It amazed me that my sister could make something so pretty from a blank piece of wood.
My sister Deb and her husband now live in the house where I grew up. A few years ago my brother-in-law mentioned to me that they were replacing the windows on the old barn. I asked him about the little decorative horse. He didn't know what I was talking about, so I described it to him. He said he suspected it may have disintegrated and disappeared, because he had never noticed it. After all, it was over sixty years old. I was a little sad, but I am a pragmatic person, so I filed the memory of the small figure away in the happy place where such memories live.
For Mother's Day Rachel and I packed the little girls up and drove to my sister and brother-in-laws house. We had terrific weekend that included fun and delicious family meals, time with my adorable new great-niece and an outdoor flea market on a perfect spring day. We also poked around a huge antique mall and took all the tiny girls for a swim at a beautiful heated indoor kiddie pool.
At one point, when my brother-in-law and I were alone for a moment, he handed me a slight, flat object wrapped in red tissue paper. "I've been saving this for you." he said. "It needed a little repair, and I can make it look more perfect if you want, or you can keep it just the way it is." My curiosity was piqued, and I carefully opened up the light package. And then my eyes leaked.
After I mentioned the little carved horse on the barn he went out and looked for it. It had been painted over numerous times and was camouflaged and unnoticed until he searched. He managed to gently pry the little equine from where it had been fused to the wall for decades, a small nail through its eye. The tail was broken in two places, but he carefully saved the fragments. He left it on his work bench for safe-keeping, then recently he glued and clamped it.
My brother-in-law is a genuinely nice guy. He is also thoughtful and talented. "You are the only person who remembered Dicy's horse," he said. "So it should be with you."
I opted to keep the pony just as it is, and she is now safely here at FairWinds. My eyes have stopped leaking, now I smile every time I walk past her. Thank you, John, for the amazing kindness.