"The Last Trail Ride"

Early morning December 24th in the year 2037.

The sun hadn't shown itself as the little old man awakened. His first response was to roll over and hug his wife. It saddened him to find that she wasn't there. As sleep went away and consciousness rose he realized that she hadn't been there for two years now. The emptiness still hung with him. He looked at his watch and found it was not quite 4:30 in the morning. As he looked out the window on the second floor of his log cabin he saw the moon light through the barren trees on his hillside retreat. As he started to get up he felt the pain of too many years, too many falls, and a body rapidly wearing out. But as he looked in the mirror he couldn't be too unhappy. After all he's 90 years old and one of his favorite sayings had always been, "If I'd have known I was going to live this long I would have taken better care of myself."

Still looking in the mirror he remembered a young man. A young man who'd have been active in athletics, a young man who had been strong, a young man who had met a beautiful young lady so many years ago at a fall picnic. He remembered the two of them together and of the children, the grandchildren, and the great grandchildren. She had reluctantly left the little old man 2 years ago. But he certainly had to count his blessings that the rest of the family that they and God created were still there.

As he started downstairs to fix his morning coffee - extra strong - he remembered yesterday and his time with the family that she would so dearly love to see - that dearly would love to see her again. His grown children and their wives and husband and all of the grandchildren (many with their husbands and wives) and even the great grandchildren had all been together. Most had wondered why he had decided to visit not the day before Christmas but the day before the day before Christmas. He was pretty sure that his four children understood and when they hugged him goodnight they knew that they were seeing him for the last time on this earth.

The little old man finished dressing. He made sure that he put on his lined L.L. Bean denims and his heavy flannel shirt. It wasn't too cold outside now, but he knew the temperature would be dropping as the day goes on. As he put on his Justin boots he remembered his old buddy the Postman who had first talked him into wearing steel toed boots many many years ago. He remembered that after buying his first pair that same evening his black thoroughbred stepped on him and surely would have broken several toes if not for the steel As outspoken as the Postman was he knew his horses and he knew his horse gear. The little old man remembered his last ride with the postman just last year. He sure missed that old son of a gun.

The little old man went downstairs and started fixing his breakfast. For a lot of years he had watched what he ate but now he didn't really care much. He'd made up some mush the night before and went ahead and fried that up with some hot sausage and capped it off with a couple of eggs over easy. That and some strong coffee made for a mighty fine breakfast. He chuckled to himself as he remembered his doctor telling him a couple of weeks ago, "You know your cholesterol is pretty high." The little old man had answered, "I'm 90 years old - who cares if my cholesterol is high?"

As he sat there at the kitchen table he looked outside and saw that it was getting lighter but there was also an ominous grayness in that light - a grayness that foretold of a coming snowstorm. Still he wasn't about to miss this ride. He'd been looking forward to the time by himself for quite awhile and although he missed his family he knew it was time toga.

He put on his heavy riding coat and remembered that his wife had had a matching one that she wore whenever they rode. With the coat and his Aussie hat he was ready to go to the stable. As he went outside he was met with an icy coldness - the kind that would chill to the bone. That would really let you know that you're alive and - considering the alternative felt really good. He'd only brought one horse on this trip - his favorite - Cheyenne Blue. This was actually the second Cheyenne Blue. The other had also been a Blue Roan - a big Blue Roan and the little old man just liked the name. But he liked to think that old friends never go away and the first Cheyenne Blue had been a great old friend.

As the little old man was brushing down the Blue Roan he remembered back to his childhood He remembered that he'd had a herd of imaginary horses because there was no way that his parents could have afforded to have horses even though they had the room in the little old home place outside of Lebanon. His parents had been two of the most wonderful people who had ever lived. They were about as different as night and day but they were both very special in their own way. They had taught him to be proud, to always think of others, and never ever ever quit.

He and his dad had shared an extreme love of horses. His dad had been in the cavalry and had been in Mexico as General Pershing was trying to chase down Poncho Villa and although they'd never been able to have horses themselves the little old man and his dad had gone on a regular basis to horse farms pretending that they were going to buy a horse and sharing the secret that it was just a fantasy. The little old man wondered if his dad knew that the fantasy had finally come true.

The little old man also remembered the best friend he'd ever had - the Postman. The Postman, besides being his best friend, was also probably the most unique character he had ever met in his life. Unique and some might say outrageous, he was also the perfect friend to have in times of trouble. He could always count on him, he'd never back down, and he was fiercely loyal. The Postman's wife had been a truly special woman. She was a friend to all and a Mother to countless young people as well as their own two children. Her greatest reward may have been the wonderful grandchildren that came after a long wait.

The little old man slipped on the blanket and his favorite Big Horn saddle. He sure wished his wife were here to go with him today. They'd shared a lifetime together. They'd met at that fall picnic when they were both sixteen and he knew that night that he would never love anybody else. He was, however, shocked to find out that she felt the same way. Why someone that pretty and that smart would ever go with a guy like him was beyond his comprehension. But they'd put in a lifetime together and they shared the trail and they had shared their love through thousands of miles of wilderness.

He led the big Blue Roan out of the stable area and stretched as long as he could to get his foot into the stirrup to pull himself into the saddle. Although a struggle it felt comfortable once he got a good seat. Cheyenne Blue took off on his own in a good steady walk down the lane through the woods. The little old man remembered those years ago when he and his wife bought this ground many miles from their home. They had decided to do another crazy thing in a lifetime of making dreams come true. They had staked out this lane in the middle of a rainstorm on a cold spring day. Then he remembered as they plotted off the cabin and the stable and the corral area how she'd laughed when he pulled out his pipe and lit up on his imaginary front porch and they had both gotten soaked through their coats and chilled clean through.

He rode across the dirt road on to the conservancy area as he took the back way to the riding trails. Hocking had been a very special place to the little old man, his wife, his family, and his friends. They had shared many a warm time no matter what the temperature might have been. Cheyenne Blue was striding out real well over the level ground of the conservancy district and the cool air was giving him a great deal of spunk. So as the horse and rider hit the first hill the Blue Roan was anxious to gallop up the incline. The rider knew that he was too old for this kind of stuff. He'd been thrown as a much younger man doing exactly what he was doing now. He'd had so many broken ribs and other bones that his wife and daughter used to make fun and say that his rib cage was probably like a spiders web but all going in different directions. But he'd always healed up and there was nothing ever serious and nothing that would keep him off his horse for the next ride.

The trails were a little bit slippery and the wind was picking up and the first snowflakes were beginning to come down. They were big and wet and they were going to pile up very quickly. As he rode further along the trail the little old man noticed in wonder how many birds were still active in the bad weather. He'd heard long ago that when the wildlife was active in a storm it meant that it was going to be a long one. But as he looked through the snow that was now coming harder he could see the Blue Jays and the Cardinals, the Flickers and the Woodpeckers. It was a little bit like Disney Land or at least what he thought Disney Land might have been because he never was much for crowds or amusement parks. This was his Disney Land - the World of Nature - The World of God.

Cheyenne Blue was feeling his oats and was just down right skittish. He seemed to be wound a little bit tight today but it sure was a great ride. They were covering the miles along the narrow and steep paths and as they constantly went toward higher ground the snow was piling up. The little old man still noticed, however, that the animal world was very active. As they got to the top of the ridge he looked down and saw his first group of deer - a buck and two does. Over the years of trail riding he had seen thousands and thousands of deer but it was still a treat. He remembered when he had been with the Postman when his friend had seen his first coyote and remembered just a few days later riding on a trail in Southern Ohio when they both saw their first eagle. Those were moments shared by good friends that live forever in the memory of a trail rider.

He remembered too the first time he and his wife rode in the Smokey Mountains and how they marveled at the great trees, the huge boulders, and the beautiful streams. He'd also been dying to see a bear that day but it was probably a good thing they didn't because surely the first sighting of a bear would have scared the horses silly. As he rode along the minutes passed and then the hours. Just like the days and the years of his life and just like his life there was some discomfort in the cold and the wind. But there was much more joy - the joy of being so alive, of the memories close to him, and of the joy of knowing God and God's world.

He was up pretty high now on a narrow path and just as he hit a creek bed he heard a noise and out of the comer of his eye he saw a group of deer breaking out of the woods. That was just too much for Cheyenne Blue. The Roan spun in a 180° and went up in the air. The little old man lost his right foot out of the stirrup, grabbed for the horn but missed and went off hard onto a boulder beside the creek. His first thought was he was glad he was able to pull his left foot out of the stirrup so he wasn't going to be drug. But that boulder in the side of the back really hurt bad.

As he lay there not being able to move very well he was comforted by the sight of Cheyenne Blue just a few feet away. But as the shock wore off he knew something was wrong. He'd been in this spot many times before but this was different. He knew he'd broken some ribs, which was nothing new, but this time he was having trouble breathing. His breathing was coming in moist gurgling sounds and he felt something sticky on his lips.

He rolled his head to the side and looked across the creek bed and down into the valley and he had to thank God for the life he'd lived, for the family he'd had and for the friends he'd made. And yes, for all those wonderful horses that had been his friends too. He had to feel pretty fortunate in these final moments to die in such a beautiful place and he was full of thankfulness for all of these things. He wondered how he'd known that this was going to be his last trail ride.

The snow was starting to cover him now and his breath was coming harder but he wasn't fighting. Death was coming easy. It was kind of odd that his last day would be on Christmas Eve. Those thousands of years ago halfway across the world Christ was born on the same day that he was dying. He knew that there was some significance in that. Some lesson to be learned but he wasn't sure quite what it was. He remembered the descriptions of the nativity and the Holy birth in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John and he remembered the reason that God had sent his son to be born into this world. As he breathed his last he did so in comfort because he knew he could depend on God's Promise.

For some reason light was shining into the little old man's eyes. This was confusing. As he woke up he was lying in the snow and the sun was shining. He heard something off to his left and turned to see Cheyenne Blue and a big old Foundation Palomino. He knew that the Postman was close by.

"Well, are you going to lay there all morning or are we going to get back on the trail?" The Postman as usual was not giving the little old man much sympathy for getting thrown off his horse. The Postman continued his monologue, ''You know we've been waiting here a long time for you. I thought you were never going to come."

The little old man understood because he always believed that this is the way it would be. He replied, "I've been looking for you too, but I just didn't know where to look."

The Postman shrugged his shoulders and said, "We've always been here for you. Whenever you thought about us we were here and sometimes when you needed some help we were there to show you the way. But now you're here and we've got to get going."

''What's the rush?" I asked. "It's a beautiful morning, the horses are looking good, and there's a lot of trail to cover."

"Well," said the Postman, "Ellen and Brenda are fixing breakfast back at the cabin. By the way, your Dad and Mom stopped over since they knew you were finally coming. Your Dad wants to take a ride with you."

By: Jon Heffner Christmas - 2001