...and on the eighth day God created the horse in perfect image, to romp, graze, gallop, play, and make manure wherever it darn well pleases, in divine grace.
Folks, I just have to tell you, I just got back from hell, and it’s been a rough one. Poor Saint Michael worked on over-time this year, and it isn’t over yet.
In a never-care world, perhaps you should take a moment to ponder the words of a humble pundit, and while I frequently pronounce on the subject of equine, to the public at large, I dare not say I am an authority.
Mull these thoughts as cinnamon wine or carmel cider, and take a tidbit the size of a clove, to save in the secret store of your mind...
December wears her silent coat of silver and white, her hair done up in a frosty, crystal-blue sweep of swirling, quartzy silica-dust, topped off with a pleasantly cold and invigorating smile.
The woodsy, cheery Titmice birds hurry to tell their friends of the plentiful store of seeds at backyard feeders, while the wise, old Woodpecker Woman, skilled in the deception of the velvet dagger, nods her head in a calculating glance at the cranky Nuthatch.
A horse’s neigh on a brisk breeze makes us pause, sure we hear the untroubled, carefree, and well-expressed jingle of sleigh bells, reverberating across an endless ribbon of time.
It was! Sleek and fast and undaunted by the icy tendrils and twining clutches of the frozen Lass of the Solstice, the sleigh rips past in a swirl of thundering hooves and ice, sound and beauty, and waves and smiles, the tiny vehicle trailing good fortune in is wake.
Gone are my summer friends the wily praying mantis and the intimidating garden spider, the oh-so-busy honey bee and the bumbledore, with her loud and resonant and repeating noise. Seeing them say hello to the flowers was so uplifting, so joyful, but they couldn’t be bothered with trivial, mere humans, so engaged were they.
Thoughts turn to a special time of year, to tasty delectables made by hand, Cris Chickies and Pizzelles, or of colored ribbon candy, that of spun sugar ever-so-thin, and Marzipan coated in crystalline sweetness, or smooth cherry cordials made of the finest chocolate with tasty, crunchy fruit inside.
The smell of freshly-brewing coffee mingles with the clink of silver, and the sugar dish and creamer, as the front door swings wide, allowing December’s icy breath to sneak in and send the Christmas ornaments twinkling and sighing.
The biting smells of Juniper and Spruce blend with scented candles that flicker of vanilla and brown sugar, or pumpkin and molasses, or pecans and carmel.
Perhaps the shadows from the candle flames are really ghosts of Christmases’ past, wandering ‘bout the house.
Children earnestly promise to be good, really they do, we’ll have to go to bed so early, and be sure to leave a bucket of water outside, so Santa’s reindeer can pause for a drink.
Angels of God swing low their loving hands over disheveled humanity, their beautiful, shining eyes pausing on each one of us, their gentle music serenading us from the stars in undescribable harmony, the Prince of Peace not far behind.
The mournful echo of the train whistle as the engine passes under the tree wakes us from our dreamy wisps of days of yore, its clackety-clack over the rails reminiscent of an art-deco, streaming black-beauty flying past, spewing sparks and smoke, the coach lights all aglow, its plush seats full of important people going to important places.
Our sleepy smiles are bested by our shining souls, blending with good will and peace.
Even Ebeneezer Scrooge’s heart melted at least once a year, and his ghosts had something important to tell the old grouch, that we, too, can heed.
It’s not what we’ve accumulated in our bank accounts that matters, but rather, what we harbor in our hearts. It’s not the car or house we own, but the thoughts and feelings we own, the good deeds we have done, and what we have shown God with our actions that is important.
For it matters not the wealth-store we have accumulated and hoarded away, in our decades upon the earth, but who we helped, who we served, and who we offered a smile or a helping hand.
Now is the time to be grateful for the truly important things in life, the things we cannot touch or hold in our hands.
Integrity comes out when no one is looking; my Invisible Horseman article talks about this.
But the all-seeing-eye of God doesn’t miss anything, and your actions, thoughts, and deeds will measure your true worth before the Creator, and what will you have to say for yourself?
Just like Scrooge, it is not too late for us to ponder, contemplate, look within, and do some serious self-reflection.
The Baby Jesus was quiet and unobtrusive when He was presented to the world for the first time, yet Angels trumpeted His arrival, and Kings stopped by to rock His cradle.
The first words that ever came out of His mouth were, “Peace be with you.”
He remained humble and had an answer for everything, and these answers can help us, even in modern times.
Behold, the Virtues of the Living Christ, the best Gifts anyone can bestow upon you.
The same traps and evil in ancient times are present today, and can be countered with the Virtues of Christ, to save our immortal souls:
Generosity, Purity, Conservation, Humility, Patience, Sharing, and Diligence, coupled with Love will beat the devil, hands-down, every time.
I keep telling you, just because you don’t see the devil, doesn’t mean he and his cohorts aren’t there, real and lurking, in the most sunny and ordinary places; take it from me...
The Love of Christ is very real, and let’s remind ourselves of God’s grace, by which we are all shown how lucky and blessed we truly are.
Kyrie Eleison, Christe Eleison...
Soon a new year will be ushered in all over this great land of ours, and I hope the bells we hear are church bells, as they are the harbingers of Christ and His Goodness, His Peace, and His Love.
...the little Lord Jesus no crying He makes...
Do take the time to kiss your mother, a special loved one, or your dog or horse, and always cherish their presence, for you never know when they’ll be gone for good.
Pray for our planet, pray for peace.
Do thank a US Veteran for their military service, for by their blood, tears, and sacrifices, we sleep peacefully at night, every night.
Peace really is the key word, folks, ...so have a cool Yule, keep the snow off your sleigh and the ice off your tails, and remember, Jesus is the reason for the season. I sure hope He stays by my cradle, till morning is nigh.
Thank you to all the fans who read “Horsin Around” every week, and thank you for the kind cards and emails. We’ll talk again next year.
Once again, I am smiling right at you from a warm fireside, and my furry friends and I wish you a Merry Christmas and Peaceful and Prosperous New Year, to the immortal words of Roy Rogers and Dale Evans, “Happy Trails to You.”