Miracle for a Horse Named Ginger at the Mystical Coast

The ocean was flat and calm. The sun was down. The afterglow was orange. The air was still.

It was a beautiful evening. It was a terrible evening.

It was the day of the accident. It was the day of the miracles.

The lighthouse beacon rotated across the shores and the sea, flashing on the scene at the lighthouse keeper's barn near the house.

Twelve-year-old Elsie kneeled next to the little red filly, Ginger. Still only a five-month-old foal, Ginger was sprawled on the ground with her long legs folded, in the corral near the lighthouse.

Ginger turned her head, looking at her injured back leg, with eyes that were dark pools peeking out from her rust-colored forelock. Then Ginger's velvet muzzle drooped toward the ground.

It was 1898 at the lighthouse on the Mystical Coast, in the wilderness forest of the Pacific Northwest of America.

Jedidiah crooned softly, "easy girl," while he kneeled on the ground, running his fingers lightly over Ginger's injured back leg.

He had seen this before during his years of taking care of animals and people.

Everyone held their breath, hoping he would have an answer.

“Is nobody going to say it?” Alexandra’s voice was sharp. They all knew the young woman in her twenties was tense around horses after her accident.

The solemn faces of the others in the group did not react.

“Don’t you all see what this is? This horse has a broken leg. You know what needs to be done.” Alexandra’s voice broke the still night.

No one replied. 

They knew Alexandra always preferred traveling in the wagon instead of riding a horse. At one time she had suffered a bad fall and she was bedridden for a long time while the injuries healed. After that, she did not feel confident around horses.

 Now Alexandra, who was in her twenties, was afraid of horses while the young kids were confident and carefree around them and this embarrassed her too. She was defensive.

Ginger’s mother, Flame, stood nearby, watching her growing foal anxiously with her eyes wide, ears perked forward, sensing. She lowered her head and touched her nose to Ginger’s nose.

The other horses watched with their heads lowered, ears forward.

“She must have slipped or stumbled.” Jedidiah’s voice was flat, without expression. He felt his thoughts running in multiple directions, searching, searching.

He began to run his hands lightly over the filly's leg. There must be something that could be done.

“Why won’t she get up?” asked seventeen-year-old Edward, the son of the lead lighthouse keeper, Joseph.

The others there commented.

“She’s hurt her back leg. See, look there.”

“It looks like it’s broken.”

Twelve-year-old Elsie’s heart pounded hard. No, no, no, she thought.

“See that bump.”

“Someone get bandages and wood to make a splint.”

“What can we do?”

“We must save her.” Twelve-year-old Elsie's words were determined.

Jedediah had experience building structures that were several stories tall. He stood silently, studying the filly, noticing Elsie’s reaction, his face blank like a statue while his thoughts raced.

“A sling.”

“Splint the leg and hang the filly in a sling under her belly from the rafters of the barn.”

Elsie breathed out long. The group studied the filly.

“Ever seen that done before?”

“We had a lame horse once. I couldn’t let him go. He meant too much to me. We used a sling for him then.”

Jake, one of the homesteaders who was visiting, brought out a bottle. “Here. This will help her feel less pain.”

He poured a little into some water in a large bowl. “Vodka,” he said. “For pain. It will calm her down too. If it works for me, it can work for her. It will warm her up too. Just a little of it.”

Jedidiah looked at the filly's muzzle while she sipped the vodka water.

“I've used a sling on an injured horse before. We let the sling loosen so he put a little weight on the leg after a while. He healed and was alright later.”

“But this looks like a broken leg.”

The deep love Jedidiah had for horses rose in his heart.

“It is worth a try. What have we got to lose? Kids break legs too and they heal.”

Then everyone joined in to help.

“I’ll get bandages and wood for a splint.”

“Someone find an old rug to put under his belly.”

“We can slide that under her belly. Lift her up. She’s so young and light we can hold her up with the rug, two on each side of her.”

“You, James, get those extra heavy ropes from the shed. Throw them over the main rafter in the barn, the big one.”

“Jack, run to my construction supplies and bring the block and tackle. We’ll use that with the heavy ropes to support her in the barn.”

“She probably only weighs about 450 pounds. We can do this. She’s young and the bones could heal while she is growing.”

Elsie felt like her chest was shaking inside and it would burst.

Another new voice suddenly spoke up. It was Alexandra again, the adult daughter of one of the lighthouse keeper’s assistants. 

“What are you doing?” The voice was sharp.

They explained. Alexandra frowned.

“I’m sorry but I don’t think this will work. It is not practical. How are you going to do this?”

Jedidiah said, “I’ve done this before. Give the little filly a chance. I’ll take responsibility.”

“But, someone will need to keep checking on her. Adjust the sling. What if she falls out of it?”

Elsie said, “I’ll sleep in the barn with her. I can get Papa if Ginger has problems.”

Edward, her older brother, nodded. “Me too.”

The air was cooling. Jeanie, Elsie’s mother said, “It is getting dark. I’ll go get a lantern. And I’ll get some blankets. Poor little thing.”

Then she thought. “I’ll make a nice mash up of corn, molasses, and some hay in a bowl. She needs to get to drink too.”

“I’ll get the bucket and go pump some water.” Elsie ran towards the barn.

Jedidiah thought for a moment. “Alexandra, I know you had that terrible fall from a horse and you’re not comfortable around horses now. That horse did not mean to cause you to fall. It was an accident. I know you suffered a lot of pain. I understand if you want to go back to your house now."

He did not want to force someone who was afraid. He knew her harsh tone and words were coming from her fears.

“Thank you, Jedidiah. Usually no one cares or understands. It was terrible what I went through.” Alexandra felt a weight lifting from her chest.

“I’ll stay. It is not that I did not want to help. I’m sorry for how I sounded.”

“How can I help?” Her voice was sincere.

Jedidiah smiled at her. He saw the painful feelings and sensed the defensiveness that had been inside of her.

He spoke gently and softly. “Maybe you could go prepare us some food and bring it here. I, for one, have missed supper.”

“Of course. I’ll do it now.” She turned and walked briskly away.

Elsie and Edward watched the conversation between Alexandra and Jedidiah with interest.

“Edward, please go back and get us some more kerosene lanterns. We will need them. It's getting dark.” Jedidiah’s voice was calm.

When the bandages and splint arrived, everyone watched Jedidiah’s strong, gentle hands encircle the filly’s leg, feeling the bones, adding the wood splint, and then wrapping it with bandages.

Then they fed Ginger some of the corn, molasses, and crushed hay mash in a bowl, followed by drinks of the water from the spring in another bowl.

The filly could not resist the sweet corn and molasses treat. She softly wet her lips and slurped a little bit of water.

Jedidiah went into the barn with several others and they looped the strong ropes over the large, strong rafter, then added the block and tackle.

They formed a knotted basket of rope that would go under the rug beneath the filly’s belly.

Gently they supported her belly and slid the rug under her. Then, two on each side, they slowly lifted her up, holding her high.

The back leg with the splint hung down and the toe of her hoof barely touched the ground.

“Alright. Now we need to get her into the barn. Slow. Slow. Come on little girl. One easy step at a time. We’ve got you.”

Jedidiah’s voice had a deep timber and singing quality. He was used to talking to people and animals who were in pain.

The people and animals did seem to respond to it. Ginger sensed the people were helping her. She was used to being handled and she trusted them.

Ginger's 450 pounds was not too heavy with all the hands lifting her. They made their way across the corral and into the barn.

Then they fastened the basket made by the knotted ropes beneath the rug under her belly.

Jedidiah adjusted the ropes in the block and tackle to hold her so her feet were resting just right, lightly on the floor.

Elsie’s mother, Jeannie, brought the blankets. Since Ginger would not be moving around she might get cold. They covered her.

Then Elsie put her hand under the blankets, and she felt the warm hair of Ginger’s coat.

She went to stroke Ginger's head. Then she wrapped her arms around Ginger's neck and laid her cheek against Ginger's soft mane.

Elsie closed her eyes and said a prayer. She felt tears growing in her eyes, but she held them back. She must be strong. For Ginger's sake.

The tired filly did not fight any of the handling. She appeared to be almost falling asleep from fatigue. Her head lowered, her eyes were partly closed.

Elsie and her brother, Edward, gathered hay and blankets to make beds for themselves in the barn.

“She is probably so exhausted from this that she may sleep through the night.” Jedidiah hoped this would be so.

“If she wakes up and struggles, come and get me.”

Elsie stood at Ginger’s head, stroking her, and speaking in a soothing tone.

The little filly’s eyes closed. Her body relaxed. She seemed to be in a sleep state, even if it was not her usual deep sleep.

“Let’s take turns,” said Elsie. “Edward, you take a nap. I’ll wake you in a little while and we can switch.”

Edward planned to only snooze lightly, then relieve Elsie for the major part of the night.

Alexandra arrived with a bundle of food. She unpacked dried salmon, thick cornbread, and honey. They sat on the equipment stored in the barn and ate while they watched the filly.

“Thank you, this is wonderful. You are so thoughtful.” Jedidiah’s words washed over Alexandra and she felt his soothing, healing power.

“Oh, I am glad to help.” When she spoke she saw him smile and nod. She smiled back at him and their eyes met.

Elsie and Edward noticed. They thought something seemed to be different. Alexandra was not showing her cold, defensive attitude now. It was as if Jedidiah’s healing talents were reaching her, too.

Edward knew Jedidiah was in his thirties, and Alexandra was an unmarried woman in her twenties.

When Jedidiah arrived at the lighthouse, there were rumors he had some dark secrets in his past. No one knew more.

Alexandra had retreated from the social world, while she was healing from her horse accident. She still had a slight limp, and this made her self-conscious, so she did not try to seek a man who might court and marry her.

 Despite the limp, she got around well. Her leg did not hurt, but it did have a stiffness, and was crooked so the lengths of both legs were not the same.

A slight breeze came in through the barn door. Outside the stars were out now on this June evening. A soft ripple sounded from the waves far below the barn and houses on the high bluff above the ocean.

A sense of peace fell over the group while they quietly ate. Tensions seemed to relax.

“This can heal. I’ve seen it before.” Jedidiah’s voice filled them with hope.

“Ginger’s young. Like a child who breaks an arm. It heals. We need to keep her off that leg, and immobile for a while.” Everyone sighed at Jedidiah’s words.

Alexandra began to feel accepted by the group, not small or looked down upon, and her defensiveness melted away. She felt a sense of belonging. These were friends. She was safe here with them. A new sense of security came over her.

Elsie and Edward saw Alexandra looking at Jedidiah with a new expression. She did not notice them watching. They shared a glance and a nod. They saw what Jedidiah and Alexandra had not guessed yet.

Despite their seeming differences, there was some kind of shared connection beginning to happen.

Elsie looked at the group in the barn gathered around the resting filly. The lanterns threw off a soft glow. There was a feeling in the air.

They would do this together. Ginger would be alright.

The warmth of a caring group seemed to flow. Word spread. Community members from farther away came to see the filly healing in her sling and to help out. The neighbors became closer and more united while sharing the time they spent taking care of the filly.

Gradually, over the days and months, Jedidiah let the ropes in the block and tackle get looser, so the filly could put a light bit of weight on the leg that was in the splint.

Then he loosened it so the sling hung below her belly for a while each day, letting her stand completely alone on all four hooves.

At last, the day came when they needed to teach Ginger how to walk again.

Jedidiah unhooked the sling from the block and tackle ropes. Several people supported the sling on each side. Elsie encouraged Ginger by holding a bowl of corn and sweet molasses out in front of Ginger. The filly took hesitant, small, shakey steps.

Each day they made a little progress. Ginger walked in a wobbly way. But her muscles gradually grew stronger.

One day they held the sling so it was loose below her belly to catch her in case she lost her footing, and they led her outside. She walked weakly and slowly, but the leg supported her weight.

The summer weather was balmy on the coast. They began taking her outside for longer walks. She would rest her head affectionately on Jedidiah's shoulder. She nickered softly to them, her eyes so warm and trusting.

Everyone loved to pet her soft muzzle, stroke her neck, and groom her with soft brushes. When she saw them enter the barn her dark eyes sought theirs.

One day they let her walk alone, without a sling for safety under her belly. She still took hesitant, slow steps, but the leg was weight bearing.

When they went too far, she got tired, wobbled, and slowly sank to the ground.

Then she began eating the grasses and seemed to be fine. They let her enjoy the outdoors lying down and nibbling grass.

Later, they got the sling, slid it under her, counted to three to coordinate, and groaned loudly while they lifted her up onto her feet again. Sometimes the helpers were only school kids who were not yet teenagers, with only one adult to help them.

Then they grasped the sling and supported her while she walked back into the barn, tired, weak and shakey. Each day they repeated this, and she began to build her strength.

A little at a time, she grew stronger and walked further.

Ginger developed a special language of nickering, facial expressions, and ear movements. Her caring attendants stroked her, talked to her, groomed her with soft brushes, and fed her treats.

It was an amazing neighborhood effort shared by all.

Many months later, the filly was walking about again almost like normal.

“We did it!” Alexandra’s words were excited.

“And you were such a great help!” Jedidiah’s voice flowed deep and smoothly.

He saw how Alexandra was a changed person. 

“It was marvelous, all the help you gave that poor filly. And now she adores you.” Jedidiah showed his teeth in a big smile.

“Well, I knew she was suffering. I’ve been through a painful injury too. Oh, I am so glad she is walking again.” Alexandra’s voice was breathy and emotional.

Jedidiah thought about how Alexandra had helped heal the filly and the filly had helped heal Alexandra.

He looked at Alexandra’s shining face and her smile. People change, he thought. Someone reaching out with understanding makes a difference.

Elsie and Edward nudged each other. They knew.

There was another orange sunset over the ocean. 

“A miracle has occurred.” Alexandra’s voice was full of wonder and she watched the filly walking.

“Yes, miracles have occurred.” Jedidiah’s eyes were warm and they met Alexandra’s. 

Time passed. It was several years later, on a summer night when the sunset glowed over the sea.

One day Elsie climbed onto a boulder next to Ginger, who was an adult mare now. She grabbed Ginger's crimson mane with one hand, and slipped onto Ginger's back to ride without a saddle.

The red mare and her rider headed for the sloping trail up to the lighthouse.

She saw two figures silhouetted against the sunset, who were approaching as they came down the trail.

Elsie waved to Jedidiah and Alexandra, now married, who were returning from their evening walk by the ocean.

Stroking Ginger's neck, Elsie gave thanks for miracles.