Brushing the Dust Off

Harley made a turn, but her foot slid out of the stirrup and she fell off the horse. She hit the ground almost horizontally and was probably not injured, but no one wants to see a child hurt, especially in athletic competition. When we heard she was okay, we all breathed a sigh of relief.

But, it brought up something I needed to discuss with the boys. On the way to the next morning’s competition, I caught their attention. “You’re going to fall, you know.”

James and Ian stared at me.

“Everyone falls off a horse sometime, and you will, too. What will you do?” I stopped at the complex and gave each an even glance. “If you’re really injured, you’ll know it and you should lie still. If you’re only shaken up, what then?”

Ian rubbed his nose. “I dunno.”

“You have a choice. If you aren’t seriously hurt, you can lie on the ground and moan. Or, you can get up, brush yourself off and get back on your horse. Everyone falls. What you do after you fall shows what kind of mettle you have.”

In the grandstand, I watched Ian, back on his horse for warm-ups. But something didn’t look right. With his back to me, I saw the saddle slip. Again. And again.

Alarmed, he sought his coach. “Miss Melissa!” His saddle, already angled at 45 degrees, slipped once more and dumped him unceremoniously on the arena surface.

It wasn’t a big deal. The girth wasn’t tight, the horse was standing still and he landed squarely. But his face showed his elation when he saw me later. “Dad! I fell. But, I didn’t gripe. I got up and dusted myself off, just like you said!”

Little setbacks result in little victories. “Way to go, son.”

William R. Bartlett lives in Belton with his family.