I remember an old wooden rocking horse at my grandmothers house when I was a small child. My grandmother said that it was nearly a hundred years old and that her grandfather had made it for the nine kids in her family.

 

I didn't appreciate the history of that old horse when I was young and did my best to destroy it...but it was  tough and well made, crafted by the skilled hands of of ancestor I never knew.

 

My sister's daughter has the old rocking horse now and my young nephew gets as much enjoyment out of the thing as I did years ago. The old painted eyes are mostly worn off and the old mop mane has long since turned to dust...but you can still see the slight smile painted on the horse's muzzle. The rocking horse in some way, knows that a small child cannot resist going for a ride and the horse is eager to ablige...ever waiting for the next generation of buckaroos.

 

 

 

---