Hope Blooms
When Queen Anne’s lace blankets the meadow, spinning like saucers on slender stalks, I remember that summer. Following a year of challenges and disappointments, my parents announced the unimaginable: they were buying me a horse. No middle school algebra equation could express the unlikelihood of their decision.
Our search for a horse led us across state lines to a small farm along the Ohio-Kentucky border, where a Tennessee walking horse approached from
