MINISTER OF CREATIVITY, copywrite 2015 ————

She and her horse are only a partial memory now, so many years have gone by since she invited me to her home. We visited the apple orchard, the stables and the old church down the road. She would ride her horse to the church in the morning where an old Priest would come, not to preside over a mass, but to just be with the people who came. Beautiful Rachel was trying to live the enriched life of the past, but it was slipping away. The priest was helping find a new life. Rachel saddled me up on a beautiful white horse like hers and then we visited the distant edges of the ranch. She wore clothes from the old days, then we went to her home and she showed me old photographs of her family hanging on the walls everywhere along with many hand made wooden and tin crosses, mirrors and carved saints. The wooden furniture was over a hundred years old with scratches and dents, but polished. I could see in her eyes the love she had for “the old home, the ranch and her horses.”

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