Samuel, the Magical Horse
The sun came out from behind the clouds. Ellen put down her umbrella and looked to see if there was a rainbow, but she didn’t see one. She did see a path in front of her and she followed it into the forest. She had walked this way many times, but had never seen a path and had never gone in. Birds flew everywhere and butterflies, too. Flowers in every color covered the ground. That must be what smelled so sweet.
This is the perfect place to pick flowers for my Mother, thought Ellen. And she did. She wanted to pick them in rainbow order. She started with red, then a few orange—it was her least favorite color. She headed toward some yellow buttercups when she heard a soft neighing sound. She looked up and saw a horse. Had he been there the whole time? He stood in a patch of sunlight. He was white, but sparkled with all the colors of the rainbow. Ellen couldn’t stop staring at him. His eyes were the color of spring violets, but shaped like almonds.
“Hello, my name’s Samuel. What’s yours?”
Ellen had never heard a horse talk before. She kept on staring, but now her mouth hung open. But he stamped his paws and backed up. Ellen didn’t want him to run away. She didn’t want to be alone.
She blurted out, “My name is Ellen and I’m running away from home. Nobody loves me there and they won’t even know I’m gone until it’s time to wash the dishes or take out the garbage. I’m going to find my real mother and father. I’m picking these flowers for my Mother. Would you like to see her picture? I never saw a picture of my father.”
Samuel nodded and stepped closer.
Ellen pulled a locket out from under her red plaid flannel shirt. Inside was a picture of a beautiful woman with long black hair and a big smile. There was also a little piece of paper folded up to fit inside. On it was written a poem in letters so small Ellen could hardly read it. Samuel couldn’t read at all, so he asked Ellen to read it.
It went like this:
There once was a child born of flame,
The daughter of both flame and fire,
And to burn away all joy and pain
Was her one and only heart’s desire.
She burned so bright that all who saw
Were frozen with a cold, cold fear
And when she left them she did know
They’d stay that way for many a year.
To melt that ice, to ease that pain,
A child of flesh, of woman and fire,
Must fly to her upon the mane
Of the horse who she calls Sire.
When Ellen finished, Samuel had a tear in his eye.
“That’s very beautiful, and so is the picture.”
“What is that thing on your back?” he asked.
“It’s called a backpack,” explained Ellen. “In it I have my supplies—three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, an apple and my toothbrush. You are a very pretty horse, Samuel. And it certainly is nice to have someone to talk to. But what are you doing here?”
“I’ve lived here for a long time,” he said. “I’m not quite sure how I got here. I can almost remember being someplace else. There were people there, lots of them, and we were happy. But that was a long time ago. Now I live here all by myself and I’m very lonely. I have no one to play with.”
“But there are all sorts of animals around here,” said Ellen.
“True, but the squirrels and rabbits are always busy running around gathering nuts and berries and hiding them, or building new homes or just scurrying about. All the birds want to do is twitter and gossip. Maybe you can be my friend, Ellen.”
Samuel sparkled blue all over as he thought of how he could show Ellen the forest and teach her about the fruits and flowers. He must remember to tell her about the mugwort plant which, at least in the enchanted forest, made anyone who ate them fall into a deep, deep sleep. But there would be time for that. They had other things to do first. And now, Samuel felt so happy that he couldn’t stand still.
“Ellen, jump on my back and we’ll go for a ride,” said Samuel.
The End–for now
This is a new version of a story I wrote many years ago. Not completely new, but new in some ways. When I emptied out my storage space, I found some old stories (which I had wondered about what happened to them) along with lots of paintings, children’s books and my daughters Waldorf books that they made in their classes.
More of this one to come. The painting and drawing weren’t done for this story. (I cropped out the naked woman standing next to the horse–it’s for children, after all). I’m still not doing much artwork. The cast is off–hooray, but now I have a splint for the next 4 weeks. I can’t drive or draw, but at least I can take a shower without wearing a plastic bag!
Thanks for stopping by.
…Until next time.