When I was expecting my first child, my brothers-in-law, Rob and Randy, were so excited. This baby would also be their first niece or nephew. They wanted to buy a very special gift for the baby and asked me what I wanted.  I had my heart set on a beautiful wood rocking horse. They ordered it, the rocking horse arrived, and sat in the corner of the nursery just waiting for the arrival of our child.

Jennifer was born in 1974. As she grew, she loved to ride on the rocking horse, and we also used it as a measuring guide for her height.

When we moved to a larger house, the rocking horse took up residence in a Bonus Room.  Jennifer was 5 years old at that time and was past the rocking-horse stage.  When her new brother, Brian, came along though, and was of age, it became one of his favorite things in the world. He would ride that horse so fast that it would get to to the tip-top of the front rockers and just hang in the air before allowing gravity to pull it back down to the ground. I can’t count the times that we would stand nearby holding our breath, waiting to catch him if he fell, but he never did.

Eventually, the day came when Brian lost interest in the rocking horse, and it broke my heart a little. I was so emotionally attached to it—not just because it was a gift of love, but because it carried so much sentimental value, having brought joy to both of our children. I had this dream of tucking it away for the future, imagining our grandchildren riding it someday. We gave the horse to our daughter to keep in storage for that day.  Unfortunately, their shed was damaged and the horse didn’t fare well. He lost his tail and an ear, the wood on his face split, and his once-beautiful stain was ruined.

Fast forward to 2024. We picked up the horse and brought him home. I had the idea of restoring him the best that I could.  All but one of our grandchildren are now past the age of wanting to ride on a rocking horse, and that one grandchild has no room in his house for it. The fact is that no one but me cares about the horse anymore.

I thought, perhaps, I would just paint the horse a solid brown and put him in one of our guest rooms that is decorated in a child’s theme. But he’s really quite a big  horse and would take up too much room. Next I thought I could cut him in half lengthwise, attach him to the wall, and use his back as a book shelf. But that really wasn’t a good use of space.  So after painting him brown, I just scuffed him up a bit, set him outside, and felt a bit defeated, not really knowing what to do with him.

Then one day my husband said, “I have an idea!”

The former owners of our house had, what to me, was a gawdy fountain near the front entrance of our house. We got rid of that fountain, leveled the ground, put a vintage cart  in its spot and gave my horse the honor of pulling it.

This horse has been in our family for 50 years   Now I smile every time I pull into the driveway and see him.   He’s part of our family and not ready to be put out to pasture yet.