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THE CHRISTMAS PONY
by
Mi Parkin Vaughan
"No Sally, you know perfectly well that we are not going to buy you a pony for Christmas," were the words that echoed through Sally's head as she got off the school bus. Her school friends yelled "Merry Christmas" to her as the doors swung shut with a hiss.
Sally knew the reason why she wasn't allowed to have a pony. Her Auntie Lynne, had had a terrible accident riding a pony one day when she was a young girl, about Sally's age, and had died as a result.
It was the day before Christmas Eve and the winter term had finally finished. Sally pulled her coat closer around her and pushed her imaginary pony into a collected trot along the stony lane to her house. Some days her pony shied at puddles and side-stepped around bits of straw blowing in the wind, but today was cold and the sky, already darkening, was threatening snow.
Kicking off her school shoes in the porch, Sally dropped her bag behind a large spider plant.
"There, that's it now until January. I'm not looking at another school book until then." she declared.
As always when she came home she knew she had to see to the pony in the old stable behind the farmhouse. On her way through the kitchen she spotted a note on the table. Quickly reading it she discovered her parents had gone out to move some stock, but did not expect to be later than six o'clock.
The kitchen was warm and inviting, Sally felt like sitting in the old, cosy armchair beside the Aga, reading one of her favourite pony stories. But Mystic would be waiting and that thought was enough to propel her out of the door.
At first, Sally thought she was hearing things. She was sure she heard an impatient stamp of hooves and a snort. It could not be Mystic for Sally had made Mystic herself, with brown fur fabric and some black wool for a mane. Mystic was a broomstick pony and completely lifeless until Sally got on her back.
Again she heard a snort and the noise of hooves on cobbles. Hardly daring to look, she peered over the stable door. To her delight, there gazing quizzically at her from beneath an unruly forelock was a stocky grey pony with dark, kind eyes.
"Oh" gasped Sally, "You must be my Christmas present!" The pony breathed agreement. She went straight into the stable and flung her arms around the grey mare and breathed deeply, taking in the unmistakable scent of horse. A pony owner at last she though and hugged the pony harder with glee.
The pony nudged at Sally's pocket for a mint, and Sally dug one out and gave it to her. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. Perhaps she could take her new pony for a ride, before her parents got home.
She wouldn't do much of course, just sit on her back and walk around the yard, after all, it was getting dark.
She took her bridle which she had made up from pieces of old belts and leather she had found, when clearing out the stable for Mystic, and went into the box with her pony. Sally had never tacked up a real live pony before, but practising on a broomstick pony had helped and at the second attempt the bridle was on.
She had a crash hat that she had bought at the school jumble sale, which she wore when she exercised Mystic and she put that on before she led the grey into the yard.
"I wonder what your name is?" she whispered to the pony softly. "If you don't mind, I think I'll call you Cloud because you are so white and fluffy" the pony did not seem to object. Sally led Cloud to the flower bed and scrambled onto her back. It was warm and soft and Sally could feel the pony's muscles as Cloud moved beneath her.
She had done two circuits of the yard and then Sally decided she had better put the pony back in her stable, afraid her parents would catch her. Without warning, Cloud shied at the boot scraper and Sally nearly fell off. Grabbing handfuls of mane, she regained her balance, then Cloud broke into a trot.
Sally felt a little worried, she had never ridden a real pony and didn't know what to do. She felt if she let go of the mane to pull on the reins, she would fall off, but could not see how the pony was going to stop if she didn't.
The yard gate was slightly ajar, and this was where Cloud was heading. There was just enough room for her to fit and she trotted purposefully along the track, suddenly wheeling right-handed and setting off up onto the moors.
It was almost dark now and the first flakes of snow had begun to fall. Sally regretted her decision to have a ride, and prayed that the pony would stop before she met her parents. Talking soothingly and saying "Whoa" didn't seem to have much effect.
Rounding a corner, an owl swooped down from a tree, directly in front of the pair. Cloud shied for a second time, and Sally, this time, slipped off. Fortunately she did not hurt herself and jumped to her feet, looking around for her pony. Cloud disappeared from view around the corner, now moving at a brisk canter.
Sally broke into a run to catch and return the pony before she was discovered, but on rounding the corner herself, she could not see the pony at all. What she did see, however, was the farm Landrover on its side in a ditch. Pony forgotten, she ran at top speed. When she reached the Landrover she tried to open the door.
"Oh Sally love," came a voice, "I'm so glad to see you!" it was her father. "You must go back to the house to telephone for help, we rolled the Landrover when one of its tyres had a blow-out, and the doors are jammed. Your mum has hit her head. Go back to the house now and dial 999."
Sally flew back down the track, the snow which had been threatening to fall came now, but she was sure-footed in the darkness and in her haste to get help. Sally could hardly get the words out when she reached home to dial the ambulance she was panting so hard.
The ambulance came, she took the men up the farm track and they managed to prise open the doors and free her parents. They took her mum off to hospital for a check-up, dad took her home for a warm drink and something to eat.
"However did you manage to find us?" he asked.
Sally remembered Cloud. "Oh no dad! It was the Christmas pony. I'm sorry!" She started to cry, "She'll be out there now, getting cold, she'll be frightened. We must go and find her!"
Outside a blizzard raged. "Calm down Sally" said her father, "What do you mean, the Christmas pony?"
"My Christmas present of course." The words came tumbling out. "I found her in Mystics stable, and I couldn't resist having a ride on her, but she pushed the gate open and got out onto the lane and I couldn't stop her. I fell off, and then I found you and mum, and I forgot about Cloud."
"Sally, you must have imagined it, there was no pony in the stable, only Mystic."
"There was a pony Dad," Sally insisted. She tried to think how she could convince her father. Suddenly she looked down at her jeans. Her legs were covered in pony grease and white hairs, like you get when you've ridden bareback. "Look!"
He slowly shook his head, and walked to the dresser. From it he took an ageing photo album and thumbed through it. Eventually he stopped and silently showed Sally the old black and white photo.
It was of a smiling girl on a grey Welsh pony. The girl looked to be around Sally's age. The pony looked identical to the one she had found in the stable, right down to the bushy forelock. The caption under the photo read "Lynne and Cloud, Christmas 1974"
Sally rushed out to the stable. Of course there was no pony to be seen, but an unmistakable scent of horse still remained. She thought she heard the sound of galloping hooves and spun round to see if her Christmas pony had come back. All she felt was a cold draught.
"Maybe your mum and I will have to talk about the possibility of you having riding lessons as a Christmas present," her Dad said, "Maybe next year there might be a pony in the stable after all."
Sally knew then that everything was going to be all right, and her dream was to be fulfilled. She sat beside the window and watched the snow fall, and maybe she imagined the grey pony that trotted past the window and tossed her head.
© Copyright Equiriders 2000
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