Post by wildfire on Jan 27, 2005 19:07:20 GMT -5
Snowman
It was obvious that the big gray horse entering center ring was not a thoroughbred. But as the spotlight followed him, there was a moment of hushed silence. Accompanied by a young man, his wife, and their five small children, the steed at last turned to face the crowd.
That's when it happened. First, distant ripples of applause, then thirteen thousand spectators, cheering.
This was Madison Square Garden. November 1959. The National Horse Show. And if the big gray horse in center ring was an unlikely champion, there was a reason for it.
Harry de Leyer. Raised on a Netherlands farm, he married his childhood sweetheart and together they crossed the Atlantic Ocean, sought a new home in America. With only $160 between them, Harry and his new bride first tried tobacco farming in North Carolina. Then they worked on a horse farm in Pennsylvania. Harry particularly loved horses. Finally he landed the job of riding master at Knox School for Girls on Long Island, and that's where their story begins.
It was a wintery Tuesday in February when Henry returned from the horse action. The entire De Leyer family came out to greet him . . . to see what Harry had chosen for the riding stables. When the van door opened, out came a mammoth gray-white horse. Slowly, he descended the ramp . . . stood silent, ankle-deep in a freshly fallen snow.
One of the children tugged at mother's woolen coat. "He looks just like a snowman!"
Snowman. It was a perfect name. But the great gray horse just stood quietly, blinking in the bright winter sun . . . as though Harry and he shared some secret that made all the difference in the world.
Snowman was trained well that season. And he was a good riding horse. But when school closed for the summer, a neighbor offered to buy him . . . offered to pay twice what Harry had paid. Reluctantly, Harry acquiesced. After all, he was in the horse business. He couldn't allow sentiment to enter into it.
As the days passed, Harry began to regret his sale. And apparently, so did Snowman. That's was when the gray gelding's hidden talent showed up, along with the horse himself. The neighbor's fences were high. Very High. But somehow, Snowman escaped. Again and again, jumping the neighbor's fence to be reunited with the master, with the family he loved.
One day, the reunion became permanent. Harry bought back the horse, and the rest is in the record books. Winner at the Sands Point Horse Show in Long Island. Winner at the Fairfield Horse Show in Lakeville. More and more championships and important shows until the ultimate dream . . . the National at Madison Square Garden. Snow Man would be "Horse of the Year" two years running . . . but not because he ran. Snowman was a jumper. And no one would have known, were it not for the neighbor's fence that separated a grateful animal from the master who missed him.
And Snowman had reason to be grateful. You see, Harry arrived late at the auction, that first day they'd met. The best horses had long since been sold.
Harry and his horse shared a common destiny, and they shared a secret also—a secret that Harry had first somehow recognized through bony ribs and matted mane and sore-scarred legs.
For that great gray gelding that became the indomitable Snowman had been rescued that day from the only other bidder, who had intended him . . . For the dog food plant.
Question: What is the difference between a horse trainer and God?
Answer: God doesn't think he is a horse trainer.
He was quite a horse.
