Brownie... one of my angels

I was eight years old, freckled faced, gap toothed, Buster Brown haircut, wearing rolled up jeans and a plaid shirt, sitting on top of a western saddle much too large for me, holding the reins fearfully and wonderfully, atop the old quarterhorse Brownie, in hog heaven. The picture is faded now but the memory glows with a fierce light in my heart. It is a memory of pure joy and glee. Our family lived in a rented farmhouse on a farm owned by Bascomb Coody. At the stock sales one day Bascomb got caught up in the moment and bought Brownie (my name for her). She was a retired working cow horse. After much pleading and begging and asking Bascomb’s permission, Daddy saddled Brownie and set me in the saddle. His hands are shown holding the bridle in the old picture but he let go and I was off for my first horseback ride. Brownie was patient with my heavy hands and walked calmly out into the pasture, down to the gully at the far end of the field. I was Dale Evans in training... galloping on my way to meet Roy Rogers at the ranch.
Brownie turned around at the gully fence line, spied the cows in the distance and suddenly I was galloping with reins flopping loose and stirrups bouncing and my hands in a white knuckle grip on the saddle horn. The old cow horse was on her way to do what she did best... herd cows.
As she ran full steam ahead towards the cows, my short life flashed before my eyes. The fence was straight ahead and I had no way to stop Brownie. Just before we hit the fence, she sat on her heels and slid to a stop as she had done countless times in her working career. None of the adults noticed my joyful terror. They adjusted the stirrups and reins and I was off riding again. I was in love with horses. Other horses have come and gone in my life, none of them owned by me. Daddy promised to get me one when we moved to the new farm but it never happened. My horse riding experiences were few and far between but so much joy. I was thrown twice... once when my galloping horse hit a hole in the sandy road, once when a horse stumbled and fell ... my feet stepped on... nibbled and bitten... nothing could tarnish my heart connection with horses.
How do you explain the instant connection that comes sometimes... a gift... the recognition of another one who is different and yet the same... person or animal... soul to soul and heart to heart? Today I am giving thanks for all those creatures in my life who have been the reflection of Joy for me. There are so many and I am overwhelmed by the rush of tears as I name them. I am blessed, then and now, with the memory and presence of these angels in my life. What else is an angel but a messenger from God? If Balaam’s ass could see an angel, so can I. When I pay attention, really see, I am surrounded by saints and angels... two legged, four legged, winged, crawling messengers of Love and Joy from the One who takes delight in the living of my days. Thanks be to God for all my loved ones who have shown up for my life party.