It was the beginning of February and Fort Collins had been hit with a massive cold streak where the temperature at night was around -20
F. The next morning, the
temperature was still below zero, when Jonny was taking Ollie for a quick walk
outside. He came back from the
walk, brought Ollie inside and said that he heard a woman screaming bloody
murder in the fields behind us and he was going to go check it out. I quickly threw on my winter gear and
followed him outside. As soon as I
got outside I could hear a woman crying and screaming hysterically – it was the
kind of noise that someone makes only when they have lost something that they
love passionately. It was scary,
sobering, drenched in pain, and incredibly bone-chilling. I’ve never heard so much audible grief
come from one person before. As we
followed the sound of the wails down the path, I looked ahead of us into a
pasture across the frozen river that separated our backyard from the pasture
and saw this large white lump lying in the middle of the pasture. As I strained my eyes to see better I
quickly realized that the lump was the majestic white horse that used to graze
there, and I put two and two together and understood that the wails were coming
from the horse’s owner. As we got
closer to the woman, we yelled out over the frozen river to see if we could
help her, she responded back “No, the horse is dead, there is nothing more we
can do” and then dropped to her knees and started sobbing again. So Jonny and I not knowing what to do, somberly turned back to our house with heavy hearts.
As we got to our house, I felt wrong about just leaving that woman there alone in her grief. I felt that there was more that we could do. I started to go into judgment of myself and began asking questions such as “Why didn’t I do more?” “Why didn’t I cross the river and climb under the fence to reach her? If it were a human that had died, I would have done that wouldn’t I? So why didn’t I do that now?” “I am a Spiritual Psychologist, I should know better, I should have moved past my uncomfortable feelings and crossed the pasture to be with her and help her.” My heart ached for her and I felt so lost in my grief for her, as well as my judgments around why I didn’t do more, and I continued to stay stuck, until I started to ask better questions. I changed my questioning from “why didn’t I do more?” to “what can I do right now to help her and share my love and compassion?”. As soon as I started to ask more empowering questions, the answer came to me – which was to write her a sympathy card, buy a candle for her to burn in the horse’s honor if she wished, and drop it off at her house. I needed a way to convey to her that my heart was hurting along with hers, and so I bought a card and a candle and wrote a heartfelt message and drove to the house that I thought would be hers based on where the horse was in the pasture. I was so nervous to bring the card up to the house, but I forced myself to do it, even though the feeling of walking up to this stranger’s house felt incredibly uncomfortable. I drove into their driveway, and it appeared that no one was there so I put the card and the candle on the front porch, and then drove away. I left not knowing if it was the right house, or if the woman would ever get my card, or if she would even appreciate it.
As we got to our house, I felt wrong about just leaving that woman there alone in her grief. I felt that there was more that we could do. I started to go into judgment of myself and began asking questions such as “Why didn’t I do more?” “Why didn’t I cross the river and climb under the fence to reach her? If it were a human that had died, I would have done that wouldn’t I? So why didn’t I do that now?” “I am a Spiritual Psychologist, I should know better, I should have moved past my uncomfortable feelings and crossed the pasture to be with her and help her.” My heart ached for her and I felt so lost in my grief for her, as well as my judgments around why I didn’t do more, and I continued to stay stuck, until I started to ask better questions. I changed my questioning from “why didn’t I do more?” to “what can I do right now to help her and share my love and compassion?”. As soon as I started to ask more empowering questions, the answer came to me – which was to write her a sympathy card, buy a candle for her to burn in the horse’s honor if she wished, and drop it off at her house. I needed a way to convey to her that my heart was hurting along with hers, and so I bought a card and a candle and wrote a heartfelt message and drove to the house that I thought would be hers based on where the horse was in the pasture. I was so nervous to bring the card up to the house, but I forced myself to do it, even though the feeling of walking up to this stranger’s house felt incredibly uncomfortable. I drove into their driveway, and it appeared that no one was there so I put the card and the candle on the front porch, and then drove away. I left not knowing if it was the right house, or if the woman would ever get my card, or if she would even appreciate it.
 |
| The card and candle that I left on their doorstep.... |
After that day, I would oftentimes drive past her house and
think of her, or would walk Ollie past the pasture and think of the white horse
and that sad, cold day in February.
I wondered if the woman ever burned the candle, or if she just thought of
it as a stupid offering. I
continued to wonder about her each day as I passed the pasture until today I
heard a knock on the door….
I went to answer the door and saw a woman standing there who
I didn’t recognize. She held out a
card in her hand and said, “This is for Elsie and Jonny”, I replied with “I’m
Elsie” and then she told me about how she was the woman that we saw in the
pasture that cold February morning.
She thanked me for my love and compassion and said that it meant so much
to her and her family to receive our card and candle. She started to tear up as she spoke of her horse and thanked
us, we then hugged, as her and I – two complete strangers – shared the most
beautiful moment of love and connection on my doorstep, and in that moment I
was so happy that I had reached out to her that day and stepped outside of my
comfort zone, overcame my own fears, and went for the love. And I’m so glad that she chose to
return it. I’m not sure why she
waited until now, but it doesn’t matter, because her visit to my house came at
the perfect time and I am so grateful for her returned random acts of
kindness. After she left our
house, I opened the card to find a beautiful message, and a picture of her and
the horse included.
She wrote: Dear
Elsie and Jonny,
I wanted to THANK YOU so much for your sympathy and
compassion 3 months ago when my horse passed away. It meant a lot to me to know you cared during my
mourning. Fanci, my horse, was the
best horse I had ever known, she was my soul-mate horse and we had many joys
shared together for 15 years. I
only had expected to have another 15 years with her. She died from a very acute and severe colic; the curse of
the horse. My family and me miss
her so much! I burned the candle
in her honor and I pray I can be blessed to see her in heaven someday; maybe
even with wings :-) Thank you for your love and sympathy,
even for me “a stranger.”
Sincerely,
Robin and Family
.JPG) |
| Robin and her horse Fanci |
HOW BEAUTIFUL.
Holy LOVE coming right back to me.
THIS is what life is about you guys! Giving love and receiving love. And THIS was such a beautiful reminder to me of how I need
to continue to reach out, give my love and bring pure, heartfelt compassion to
those in need – even if it is with complete strangers. Because strangers or not, we are all
connected, our love matters and it does make a difference.
So I encourage you – how can you give a little extra love
today? Who can you reach out to
that is grieving and check in with them to let them know that you care? What action step can you do to let
someone know that you are thinking of them? Go do it now.
Don’t let your mind convince you that you are too busy, or that it won’t
matter to them – because it will matter – I promise you it will. I remember when I was grieving and
someone reached out to me in the simplest of ways and how much that meant to
me. So follow your heart now and
go…
