No one remembers when it started. I think I was born with it. For as long as I can remember, there was nothing I wanted more than a horse. Every Christmas, my request was the same, but the answer was always no. Every birthday, before I blew out my candles my mom would tell me, “don’t waste your wish on a horse, you can’t have one.” Of course I always would anyways.
Finally after 16 years worth of birthday wishes, I got a horse of my own. He was a 4-year-old Thoroughbred that raced at the local racetrack. No longer winning races as he once did, he was given to me as a gift. I changed his name to Zephyr, and got to retraining him and breaking his old racing habits. He had his fair share of rambunctious outbursts, and threw me on the ground several times. I didn’t mind though.
We quickly earned each other’s trust and worked as one. By the time the summer before my senior year rolled around, it was time to have my senior portraits taken. Because Zephyr had been such an influential part of my life, I wanted to take my pictures with him. Things were going swell, until he decided to throw a bit of an untimely tantrum. He spun around so he was facing me, and reared all the way up onto his hind legs. I looked up at this massive animal as he thrashed his front legs about. Determined to not let go of his reins, I stood my ground. I had never been fearful of horses, and especially not my own. I was in the process of scolding Zephyr; when his front hoof came down, square on my head. I hit the ground, and could feel my horse tugging on the reins, and backing up. Upon hitting the ground I immediately jumped up to calm him down, and make sure he didn't run off. Not realizing that I had blood streaming down the side of my face, I asked my mom what was wrong, as she started to press a paper towel to my bloodied head. I then asked her if I was bleeding, and if it had ruined my white shirt. After calling 911, it started to sink in what had just happened, although I wasn’t quite sure of the severity.
I had a four-inch laceration that went all the way down to my skull. I was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance (exciting!) where they did a CT scan on my head and gave me thirteen stitches. Incredibly enough, I left the hospital that night with nothing more than 13 stitches, a gnarly looking head, and of course a bit of head trauma. On the way home from the hospital, I forced my mom to stop at the barn so I could check on Zephyr to make sure he was doing alright.
Had I been kicked just a little bit off to the side, I could’ve been severely injured or even killed. I realized that night: I have a tremendous amount of passion for horses, and even knowing how seriously I could’ve gotten injured, I still couldn’t stay away. My passion doesn’t end with horses, however. I have the ambition to get myself into an artistic field, and succeed. To go as high as my abilities will take me, and still work at going higher. I have the desire to do well in the things that I work at, and the amount of passion inside me drives me to do the things I love. To work hard with my horse, to do my best in school, to practice my art until I can no longer keep my eyes open. I have such an immense amount of passion, that nothing will be able to keep me down. When I am fervent about something, I will find a way to make it happen.
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