Making resolutions is one of my specialities. I'm good at knowing exactly what I want to do, and when and how I want to do it.
Sadly, breaking resolutions is one of the other things I excel at.
Last night, I planned to surprise Greg by getting up early and suggesting a bike ride up to Piekenierskloof to see the sunrise. It was a great idea, except for two things:
1. the sun rises on the other side of the mountain so we wouldn't be able to see it
2. when Greg woke me up at 7am I told him it was far too early to be human and suggested (not very politely) that he should go back to sleep.
And, of course... yesterday saw another resolution broken. After an impressive record of two blogs in two days, I missed Friday. Not because I had nothing to say, which would have been a very good reason. But because I had absolutely no inclination to turn on my computer.
The beautiful Rosie with her groom and one of the children who she is working with
Yesterday was a good day. We spent the morning with an old friend who we see far too rarely. She and I had time to chat while Greg took her horse for a very sedate ride through the gum trees. And I had a chance to watch her working.
Mari's company, Horseworx, provides exercise and muscle therapy to disabled or injured children using ponies which have been rescued by the SPCA or the Carthorse Association.
Yesterday I watched as she worked with a three year old boy who has had multiple operations for the congenital disease he suffers from. Yesterday was his first visit back to Horseworx after a long hospital stay.
It was amazing to see the joy on his face as he sat on the broad back of Rosie, a snow white little pony with a gentle temperament. It was hard to believe that this calm and placid pony had been abused by her previous owners or that she was so thin that she had to be slowly nursed back to health and confidence by Mari and her grooms.
As the little boy was led around the field, stopping every now and then to throw a hoop onto a peg, or to throw a ball; riding facing backwards, forwards or sidesaddle, he was exercising his tiny, wasted muscles without even realising it.
I really admire Mari for her courage and her patience. I don't think I would have the fortitude to work with disabled children, but somehow she manages it, without hardening her heart or losing her compassion.
Leave a comment here if you want to know more about Mari's work, or know someone in Cape Town who would benefit from her therapy.