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Do you believe in miracles? Sometimes we have to see a miracle to believe in it. I saw a miracle. A miracle through the horse. A new rider came to learn to ride. A girl that maybe would be beautiful one day, but now looked harried, cumbersome, with hints of unattractive frustration on her face. The frustration beginning to put permanent impressions of indentations, of frown lines beside her lips. Her lips pulled tight and thin with effort. And everything was an effort. You know besides the shoulder rough cut long chesnut hair, you really didn't see her face, you merely picked up on the tension, because when you looked at her, you didn't see a little girl of 10. No in reality all you saw was the steel. Lots and lots of steel. A big bulky walker. A square of steel tubes for her to hold herself up. Not that it worked very well. She seemed just as likely to fall over with it as without it. But with it, not only did her body go down, but this great big crash of metal with its wide and monstrous proportion, compared to her at least. 
But this little girl wanted to ride. And she wanted to touch, and smell and brush this beautiful animal in front of her. Snowstar took a second look at all that metal, but surprisingly no more than that. I'm sure if I walked in with a contraption like that, she would have been literally crawling up the walls, hoof indentations sparking off the walls as she tried to get away from that mass of steel. But somehow this pony just knew that, that steel was a part of Katrina. And brilliantly took no notice of steel legs that bumped into pasterns as Katrina tried to move around her body.
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