Refuge Farms (www.refugefarms.org)

I’m late getting this blog out on to the website today. Was up extra early in order to make a short meeting this morning at 7:30 am. And I just got home from that very meeting. And it’s almost 12 noon.

John and Sally (not their real names) have been calling and stopping by and attempting to contact THE FARM about two horses that they have. A Morgan gelding and an Arab gelding. Both are older horses with colorful and prolific histories. Both are showing some of the signs of age. And both are in need of a new home.

John and Sally are just like their horses. They both are getting wiser and both have colorful and prolific histories. Both are showing some of the signs of age. And both are in need of a new home.

Upon meeting Star and Windsor, my heart was immediately taken with their pride and their stature and their inner knowledge that they were worthwhile – but in a humble kind of a way. These two horses were pals with the Morgan letting the Arab think he was the boss. It was fun to watch. The Arab would push his way in and the Morgan would eye him and think about showing him his brute strength but then decide it was simply more his gentle demeanor to just let the Arab have his way. Let him be the boss. Or at least let him think he was the boss!

And upon meeting John and Sally, I saw that they were again just like their horses. Their pride and their stature were evident. They knew they were good people. And they were struggling to “own” the situation they now found themselves in. And I must add, that they both were achieving their goal most gracefully. I was impressed with their ability to accept the outcome of their efforts and to do their very best to move forward. To go on. To let someone else be the boss of their life for a while when their home was being taken from them and the bank was pressuring them for improvements on the property they would never call ‘home’ again.

While in the pasture, Sally and John had stories upon stories of how sturdy the Morgan is and what a champion the Arab is! Their eyes were beaming as they told us of those championships and passed on every little quirk in each horse. Hugs for the horses were constant. And the horses never left the two of them. The Morgan was John’s horse, that was evident. And the Arab was Sally’s. That was more than evident as he licked her hand the entire time!

The pressure and the weight of the situation was visible to me on the faces of these two people. Faces that longed to smile but could only grimace and tell of their situation. Faces that were aging with the strain of the loss. Faces that could have been angry.

But John and Sally were kind through to their cores. John went to a special effort to explain to me that the “people at the bank are nice people. They are just doing their jobs.” How gracious! How kind! To not put the anger of the situation on the people delivering and carrying out the message! These two were bigger and better Humans than I, was my swift conclusion.

And even in their situation, they still supported the overseas family that they had supported for years. And John told of their achievements and was a proud man on this Father’s Day as he spoke of the intelligence of this family so very far away. A family with a future and a way out because of John and Sally’s big hearts.

We walked the property and John and Sally talked of their years of hard work and improvements. The house has a new foundation and a new roof – but only after hours of backbreaking labor to dig out the old foundation and skim layers and layers of old asphalt shingles off of the roof! They talked of the buildings full of the previous owner’s “stuff” that was left behind. And how an auction ridded them of much of the leftovers but no money. After advertising and auctioneer fees were paid, “we pretty much broke even”, John explained.

We traveled from building to building to building to building. Looking at log splitters (never used), welders (used once), sand blasters (never used), tack galore!, tractors, brand new doors still in their cardboard wrap (for the house remodel), generators, pumps, … My heart was breaking as they carefully touched each treasure and explained it’s purpose in the grand scheme. The scheme that will remain a dream.

And while Sally toured the motor home, John and I sat quietly in the shade of the big trees and surveyed the land and the view. John’s sign was long and deep. “I just like the lay of this land,” he said. He had to get up and move to another spot in the land. To another view. He loved the lay of that land too much to look at it now.

Refuge Farms will foster their horses, for sure. I will do whatever I am able to do to ease the load on the shoulders of these two people. My heart, this time, was partially left in the chest of the Morgan but also left in the chests of John and Sally. “We are just so overwhelmed”, Sally told me. “And for the sake of John’s health, we have to leave it all behind. All of it.”



As we hugged so long at the end of the morning, Sally hugged me tightly and whispered in my ear, “I don’t know what to do or what to say. No one has ever helped us like this before.” I smiled at her and matched her tears. Then I told her of our Mission Statement. And how their horses had brought us together so that we could “bind up the crippled and strengthen the weak and bring back the lost.” I clumsily tried to explain to Sally that her horses will allow us the honor of working our Missions by placing them and then by supporting the two Humans, too.

So once again, as I drive myself home I marvel at The Plan and how it works. Every time. Sally never gave up on contacting Refuge Farms. She called and she called. And finally she came to THE FARM with her daughter to plead the case of their two horses. “You are our last hope”, she said. No Sally, I disagree. Your characters and wills are the instruments that will carry you forward. Refuge Farms? Yes, we will help a little bit by just doing what we were created to do. But Sally, my dear woman, we are not your last hope. Just a tiny ray of hope.

Enjoy the journey of each and every day,
Sand and The Herd