Every person has a moment or event that can change his/her life, or at least make the days ahead more meaningful. For Becky Lowther, living a lonely life of hard work and little excitement, she found on one birthday the promise of fulfilment.
It was her eleventh birthday, and Becky was full of excitement for her mother, Mona, had invited all sixteen students in the one-room school to the party. There would be few gifts, as many children in the school were impoverished.
Becky’s father, Bill Lowther, came into the kitchen and kissed Becky on the cheek. She was their only child but special in her intelligence and quiet way of relating.” I have a gift for you, Becky,” he said, “but you have to eat your breakfast first.”
Becky ate her porridge, eggs and bacon and milk quickly then pleaded, “Can I have my gift now, Daddy?”
Bill stalled. “Let’s go to the barn and feed the cows and kittens first.” Becky went to pat Maud but saw something in the stall beside the rusty, white-faced workhorse; it was the most handsome black, finely-groomed horse she had ever seen. “Where did this horse come from, Daddy? Is he ours?”
Bill assured Becky that the horse was hers, and his name was Jollity Clegg or Jolly. He explained to Becky that the horse was a racehorse and would have to be broken to the saddle before she could ride him. He was a standardbred that was raced too early and could not earn his keep on the track. Bill had rescued him to keep him safe and give him a home.
For Becky, Jolly was a dream come true. There would be no more riding Maud, who would shimmy to the ground when a plane approached and run home with her returning on foot behind her.
Jolly was jet black and shiny like a newly polished dress shoe, and Becky was overjoyed to own him. The white star on his face made him stand out even more. When could she ride him, she wondered. She imagined braiding his mane and tail and showing him at the exhibition. He was just perfect!
The birthday party after school was a happy time with egg salad sandwiches, lemon-filled cake with seven-minute icing, and ice cream. The baseball game behind the barn had dried cow patties for bases and a baseball bat hewn by Uncle Fred. Becky was shortstop.
A dear gift was from the young son of the needy family next door, and was of two China cats which would stand on her bedroom dresser. The boy had stood in his stained shirt and torn trousers with a mop of ruffled blond hair. He had once, in Grade Two, offered Becky in admiration a hunk off his turnip.
After lunch, Becky showed Jolly to her classmates, and she felt proud and excited all over again. Her spirits were dampened by two Grade Six boys who said the only reason she had a horse was because her father had money from selling potatoes. Becky knew they were just jealous, but they still hurt her. Her green eyes were sad, and she shied away from everyone until they all went off the property. She spent time with Jolly, patting him and being consoled by his quietly looking at her while she curried his coat.
