A New Ending

Finding Victory Amidst Defeat

By Moriah Chace

I watched in horror as Summer, my horse, slipped out of my grasp. The rope glissaded off her neck. I couldn’t stop it. Noticing she was free, that mare gave me a jesting glance and galloped off. She trampled the neighbor’s commercial strawberries. Fifteen minutes later, I caught her, but not before Lheny, my instructor, and the strawberry foreman noticed Summer wrecking havoc. I penned her and Lheny found me behind the barn. A furious look burned on her face. She castigated and fired me for carelessness.

In that instant, I lost everything: my job, my career, my future. Lheny not only employed me, but she also sponsored my training under Jennifer Monique Rond, a high powered English equestrian who had trained several pro athletes. My pedestal crumbled. I was left with my horse and a shredded pride. That evening, I cleared out my tack. I packed my future into little boxes and carried it home. My life looked hopeless.

Summer stayed there for two days before we found a new ranch. The tiny facilities truncated all of my dreams of blue ribbons, circuit shows, and training positions. At my lowest point, I contemplated selling Summer, and leaving the equestrian community forever. Thankfully, I didn’t. I kept riding her and establishing myself as a competent rider under my new instructor, Aimee Groen.

The transition was difficult. I watched my former friends on Facebook as they competed in shows and participated team events. Many nights, I cried myself to sleep. That life belonged to me. I should be there. And, yet, I wasn’t. That door slammed itself in my face. I didn’t know it yet, but a window swung open at the same time.

Aimee approached me one day. “I’m starting a program for destitute children. I want you to be a handler. You’ll teach a child to ride throughout the summer, and possibly into the fall.”

I agreed. Using the techniques Lheny taught me, I watched Moriah, my student, gain aplomb as she worked with Summer. The feeling of ecstasy teaching gave me revived as I watched her succeed. I rejoiced in the progress she made; her confidence soared. I never noticed myself regaining confidence through working with her until months later. She achieved success and I rebuilt myself. We both grew into ourselves that summer.

Those three months of summer showed me who I was again. I realized that an altered future didn’t mean a past lived in vain. Maybe I don’t have the same future that I did, and maybe I’m still finding that future, but I’m comfortable with that. The loss of my future showed me who I could be. I didn’t need to be a famous instructor to change the world. Moriah’s life has been affected by me, and that is much more successful than a high paying job.