Whoa, Nellie

First Grandpa hitched Nellie up to the surrey with a fringe on top and paraded us around in the best of Amish style. She loves to go! And it takes a lot of strength for Grandpa to hold her back, especially on the homeward stretch.

After Nellie was quite worn out, Grandpa saddled her up for the kids. Way, way up.

And I remembered one of my first memories -- sitting bareback on our gentle black mare as she enjoyed feeding on the freshly delivered hay . . . her uncharacteristic startling . . and my tumbling to the hard ground below.

Then a more terrifying memory -- seeing my little brother's lower face bitten off as the horse reached to chomp on the oats held out in his three-year-old hands . . . my dad sweeping him up . . . holding his bloody face together . . . frantically running . . . and praying.

And finally -- empathizing with my great-grandma helplessly watching the frightened horse drag her four-year-old son to his death.

When I insisted that Grandpa stand close to J on the horse, someone teased You worry too much! Oh sure, no need to be afraid.