There once was an old horse named Courage.
Courage stood quietly in the pasture as the strong autumn wind played with her well-worn mane.
No one paid her much mind as she buried her nose into the bale of hay. This had not always been the case—back in the day, Courage had been the object of great attention due to her strong, fast legs and her unmatched tenacity to be the first horse in on race day.
Young and determined, she had spent countless hours with her trainer learning everything necessary to make sure that the dust from the track was far behind her.
Remembering the anticipation of standing at the start gates just before the chutes flung open, signaling the start to the race, brought a surge of adrenaline to the old horse. Courage was known for racing with the splendor and confidence of a horse who knew she was prepared to win.
The early days were a blur as she took in all the experiences of a winner. She was well groomed, well fed, well known and well loved.
But as time has a way of doing, the years eventually took their toll on Courage. At first the recovery times between races were sufficient. Small injuries would mend quickly and Courage would once again be off to the races. Life, however, has a way of throwing curve balls, and Courage received more than her share of set backs.
With every set back, Courage dug deep into the resolve of her spirit, searching for strength to make one more lap around the track.
Eventually life’s brutality can leave its mark on even the most tenacious of creatures, even a horse named Courage.
What Courage had to give was no longer enough.
Expectations placed upon her led only to disappointments. Then one day, like silence in the still of night, Courage slipped quietly into the back pasture where she was quickly forgotten.
From time to time young race horses would graze in the pasture next to Courage. They were young and naive as she had once been. They did not care to hear of the days of past, of the stories that were locked within the heart of Courage. Too caught up were they in their own moments of fleeting glory.
Courage stood quietly in the pasture as the strong autumn wind played with her well-worn mane.
There once was an old horse named Courage.
There once was an old horse named Courage.
Stay the Course...
Sheila
