Mare

The old mare foaled a colt but the little guy died so I was stuck with the mare. She didn’t want to be ridden but if I goaded her she’d walk at her own pace until I turned her for home. Then she’d run flat-out until she was back at the pasture gate. She never cared whether I was still on her. Once I went into the pasture to give her oats. She kicked the bucket out of my hand. Oats went everywhere. In time, the oats grew in the pasture. In time, she came to be my mare.

Go in peace to love and serve the Lord!
Josh