In the early spring of 2002 my husband and I were wakened to the sound of someone pounding on our back door. A man, clearly concerned, was standing there. He asked, “Do you own that horse walking down your driveway?” Of course, I panicked thinking that the horses had gotten loose. But, no. Instead I saw a sad looking, disheveled black horse sadly walking down the driveway headed straight for the main gate to the paddocks. The other horses were all standing at the gate seemingly waiting for this stranger. There were a bit of low rumblings but no squeals, no loud trumpeting of whinneys. Just a grumbling that almost seemed comforting. The horse walked right up to the other horses and stopped with a sigh. They all began the custom ritual of sniffing nostrils. Again, no squeals, no whinneys. Simply the quiet, inquisitive sniffing that happens when strange horses meet one another.

After a few moments I realized where this horse belonged. I called the horse by name and she allowed me to quietly walk up to her and put on an old halter and lead. I then walked her back to her home which was about 1/2 mile up the road. When we reached her driveway, I had to convince her to continue up to her own paddock – a small enclosure with a shelter amidst caged dogs, broken household appliances, discarded childrens’ toys and other  belongings that clearly had been thrown out for trash. There was no break in the fenceline of this pen. The twine gate had been untied and this is apparently where this mare ‘escaped’. She allowed me to lead her to the middle of her pen and then lowered her head and shuffled to the side of her shelter. I tossed some hay that I found to her. When I left, she had remained there, hay untouched, head still to the ground and feet unmoved.

A few days later the horse’s owner sent one of her children down to my home to ask if I wanted “Ginger”. I said no, I didn’t think so. Thank you.

I had been praying for another “Schooling Horse” with the visions of a young, healthy, well mannered horse that would fit in with our existing “family”. Little did I know that I had my answer right there in front of my face. I did include a little bargaining tool in my prayer; I told God that if this horse were to walk down my driveway a 2nd time in the next week or two, I’d “believe” that He was “sending” me this horse.

2 weeks later, on one of the coldest mornings of the season, my husband and I were again wakened but this time by the donkeys braying, the dogs barking and the horses hollering. In the middle of this noise I managed to hear the shuffling clip-clop of hooves coming down the driveway. I went out side to see Ginger making her way down back. She by-passed the main gate this time, scooted under the dog run and planted herself by the back of the paddock while the others all ran up with nickers of welcome and greeting. It was only 3 am and I wasn’t about to walk that horse back home again so, instead, I called the police. They stopped at the neighbor’s on the way here and in a few short minutes, the neighbor’s arrived to take their horse back “home” again. Little did we know that Ginger was home already. The neighbor informed me that someone was due in the next day to “take” Ginger. She didn’t know where; she just knew that the horse would be out of her hair forever. As the son walked Ginger back up the road, I began to cry. I felt this horse anguishing over why no one loved her; after all her years she’s been loyal to her people they hated her. Why? Why? My husband had left for work by then; (he leaves at 3:30 am) so I did not have time to talk with him. Again, I prayed … as tears streamed down my face. “God, if THIS old horse is the one you want for me to take in, I will. I know you’ll provide for whatever medical expenses she needs and the extra feed it will take to feed another horse that cannot “work” for her keep. But I have to know for sure. I will call my hubby and if he says to me, and it has to be exactly this, “Well, I guess you better go get her, then.” then I will know, for sure, and promise I will take her and keep her for as long as she lives.”

I called my husband later on that day fully expecting him to rant about another sickly mouth to feed. When I reached him on the phone I told him what I felt as Ginger was going back to our neighbor’s house and asked if we could, please, take her in? “Well, I guess you better go get her, then.”    !!! 

You GO, God!  🙂 

On her first day at “home.”

Ginger settled right in as if she’d been here all her life but her knees were grossly swollen; her back was tender; her hooves looked as if they hadn’t been trimmed in years. They were at least 6 – 7″ long and curling up. They were horribly mis-shapened; so badly that her outside hoof walls were an inch longer than the inside and the soles were cockeyed and squished. In fact, she was foundered. Her ribs could be counted from 15 feet away from her body and her unshed fur was matted with dried manure and mud. Her mane was so tangled in dreadlocks that I thought I’d have to roach it.

Her tail was stiff with dried manure. Her spirit was unbearably sad but, at the same time, at rest now, in our back paddock. Ginger was home.

Over the summer, we trimmed her hooves, bathed her, groomed her until she was slick and shiny. Rode her gentlya and slowly, at first, then strongly to build her back up to fitness. She came fit with a venegence! Her legs straightened out as her hooves regained a healthy shape and state. Her back became strong and straight. Her muscles rippled in the sunlight of the later summer days. Her fortitude and natural nature returned to the delight of all who know her.

During that time, also, I received bits and pieces from a couple of former owners about her past. Her knees never regained the smooth, strong look of equine legs because they had both been “broken” by a drunk with a 2 X 4. Her age was questionable. One said at least 34 but by the looks of her body, her recovery and her teeth, 24 was more in line with the truth. Her last owner acquired her because someone had tied her to the front porch of her house one day. Apparently before that she had been “retired” to a cow pasture in the back of some business in another ;town. Before that she was a little girls first horse who had outlived her time.  The little girl grew up and no longer wanted an older horse that couldn’t perform to standard. She gave her to a “friend” who then “retired” her to the business owner. The business owner decided one day he no longer wanted her in his cow field so trucked her and dumped her at this woman’s house. This woman up the street loves horses but due to life circumstances, was not able to keep her in the healthiest environment or feed. She had called the canner to come get her.

Ginger could have walked right across the street when she “escaped” to the other horsey neighbors but walked down the middle of the road instead, to our farm – she came “home”.  She and God both knew that here she’d find love and warmth, friendship and loyalty and a place where she’d be hugged and praised and told she’s beautiful for the rest of her life. That’s all she wants and that’s all she needs.

As much as we can give her, here at Penzance, we give. She’s become a strong, healthy, teacher and wise counsel for those students who need her wisdom. She has unbelieveable power and will plus gaits that even dressage warmbloods would die for. She’s regained her equine nature and doesn’t hesitate to put someone with more than a gentle hand on the rein in his or her proper place. She watches out for her riders and is brave to venture into unknown forest and trails, all the while watching out for her rider.

She’s become our  “Grand Lady” of the farm.

In all of this, though, her heart still breaks because of   those humans  whom she served who so easily discarded her like an unwanted ragdoll. All she wanted was to be loved and cherished. She gave and gave and gave with her whole heart and spirit and received, in turn, crops, whips, 2 X 4’s, harsh words and shouts and was then thrown away. Her spirit easily reaches those people who come in contact with her now whom she knows need healing and who will “open up” with her. All she needs to do is brush her gentle, giant head against a broken heart to melt it. Whatever special “powers” she has to break down walls and help bring out the real meaning of life to those humans, they work. She makes people cry. She releases bound hearts and minds. She cries out to those who need love and wisdom. Those who need to feel their own pain, acknowledge it and heal are drawn to her. She’s found and she gives out   in return – unconditional love.

Ginger is home, now, forever – loved and whole.

Many of you already know Ginger’s story – the story of an old mare who ran away from “home”, not once but twice. (Her original story can be found HERE).  In 2001, Ginger found her forever home here at PENZANCE in Douglas, MA. It was here that she found her calling of healing and discovered that humans really can be loving and respectful. It had been many years since she had been cared for in the dignity and respect of which she was deserving. Her broken knees couldn’t hide the truths of  human cruelty and selfishness. The way she would turn her head and eyes away from humans told of a feeling of misconceived shame and unworthiness. She would do what she was asked of her but one could tell her heart was heavy and what she did was out of obedience and not with a willing heart. Her mane and tail took time to grow back from the matted filthy tangled mess that she had when she walked onto our farm. Her old body was bony and sharp with a dull, manure matted coat. Her eyes were wary and dull. But, it wasn’t long, however, before her ribcage disappeared in the black, sleek shininess of a midnite coat that grew in with a rebounding vigor. Her knees began to lose some of the swellings with proper nutrition and care for her foundered hooves. Her eyes began to, once again, shine with compassion and hope. I knew she was well on the road to recovery of her inner pain the day I called to her and she looked at me with both eyes then allowed me to hug her head and stroke her ears, burying my own nose in the sweet scent of her soft nostrils.  We both knew she was “home”. We both knew, too, that she still had “work” to do even at the age of 36.

The autumn and winter following her arrival here at Penzance, Ginger became a favorite horse for a few women who attended our Progressive Equine Partnership Training course here. It was this group who dubbed her, “The Horse that Makes People Cry”.  It all started on the first day of class when one woman picked Ginger to be the horse she wanted to work with for her exercises that day. She went up, wrapped her arms around Ginger’s neck and the next thing we all knew was this woman was sobbing as hard as anyone had ever seen. You see, this woman was feeling rejected, ugly and unloved and so lonely at that time just like Ginger was feeling when she walked onto our farm. Ginger was the catalyst, somehow, of opening the doors to this woman’s heart so she could begin her journey of healing. Today, 4 years later that same woman is whole and rebuilding her life with her young son. It all started that 1st day of class with a simple hug from a horse.  The next week during class sharing time we all learned that two other women had gone home, thought about Ginger and spent the weekend crying. Through that opening of hearts, they, too, were able to heal old wounds that held scars of years before them. All Ginger needed to do was allow herself to be loved and through that she gave hope to so many others.

In 2003, early spring, I was riding Ginger for the first time that season. She was then 38 and still able to stride out with magnificent strides and proud gaits in spite of her grapefruit sized knees. After a short time I asked her, one more time, for one more good trot around the ring. We got half-way around and Ginger’s hoof hit a rock. She tripped and was unable to regain her balance in spite of her determination to not go down. She fell, hard, trapping my ankle between the rock and her hip. As impact took place I remember feeling a sharp snap, knowing my ankle had been shattered and broken. As Ginger’s large body rocked one way, I rolled out from under her and rolled away. She rolled in the opposite direction that I did and we ended up about 50 feet apart from one another and a good 100 feet away from the entrance to the riding area. Unable to get off the ground, I called to Ginger after she was standing and had shaken herself off. I prayed that she was not hurt. Thank God she was not. She turned and came over to me, lowered her head and nudged me in the back. I reached up, pulled myself up her front leg then held onto her mane. Ginger took one step, I hopped one hop. Ginger waited then took one more step. I hopped a hop again. This kind, sweet mare kept on taking one step at a time each time waiting for me to hop with her, before taking another step. We made our way out of the riding area like this and I was able to sit down on a stump. She stood quietly while I losened her girth and slid her saddle and pad off her back. She then dropped her head in my lap and stayed with me like this for another 45 minutes until my husband arrived home from work and helped us both back to the barn. My heart overflowed with gratitude and love for this old mare who helped me when *I* was broken and stayed with me until she knew I was safe. My ankle surely was shattered and broken along with my leg and torn muscles, ligaments and tendons. Three weeks later, with a full cast, I was able to make my way out to the side yard to see Ginger and give her a hug. Not only could I hug her, but I sat on a chair while she “danced” around me on the end of my 30 ft. line. We played for awhile that day, me sitting in my chair, healing hearts and bones in a way that only horses and humans can play. My insight into the equine soul and heart was growing stronger. As much as I was teaching about human and equine partnership to my class, Ginger was teaching me even more.  

I understand that Ginger once taught a young girl how to canter bareback, caring for her young charge as a mother cares for her own child. I also learned that Ginger once proudly walked in parades and won many children and adults, alike, proud blue ribbons over her years. She must have been a beauty in her younger years with her thick, wavy, black mane and tail glistening in the summer’s sun. In her golden years, though, she was so much more than just a big, beautiful black mare with a white star on her forehead and white socks on her legs. She tried to hide her broken heart when she first arrived but then it grew and then she began to give it away – to the very species who had so rejected and so hurt her in the past. In the hope restored and the healing for humans Ginger became even more beautiful in body and spirit than in the younger days of her life. She showed us that there is beauty and love even in the deepest, darkest of our wounded souls and most of all … there is Hope. We find that hope by taking steps … sometimes one at a time on broken knees, shattered ankles and hidden heart pain. But there’s always Love and there’s always Hope.

My prayer is that through this and through Ginger’s Story that you may find hope and love for the hurts that fill your heart today. My prayer for you is that someday you, too, will find a horse whose heart is bigger than the sun and shines just as brightly. My prayer for you is that Ginger will still touch your heart today as it has done for so many over so many years. My prayer is that Ginger is now able to run free of pain and hurt and disappointment and that now she can look down upon us all and share her Hope of Heaven … Heaven here on earth for you, and me.

Ginger by Grace, 1965 – 2005, Penzance, Douglas, Massachusetts. May you rest in peace Beautiful Girl …

God Bless.

— Gwenyth Browning Jones Santagate
October 16, 2005.

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