The Lessons That Almost Were.

I can’t remember exactly when Olivia started talking about wanting to take horseback riding lessons. Every time we’d take her older brother to a certain friend’s dad’s house (follow that?) in a nearby town, we’d pass a sign on a busy corner advertising some. The stable itself sat nearby, remnants of a farm still holding out against the encroaching city limits.

I never spotted anyone around the property, but I finally called the number I’d copied down from the sign. I left a message. No one called me back, and I didn’t pursue it. Our summer started and with it a new routine that didn’t take have me driving her brother down that way anymore, and Olivia didn’t bring it up directly. Just the occasional, “I SEE HORSES!” every time we’d pass some along the road or highway — which in the Midwest can be fairly often.

Last week Olivia and I accompanied a friend to her daughter’s horseback riding lesson (not at the same place I’d called), even though I knew what would happen and I knew how much it would cost. Sure enough. “Yes! Yes! I want to do this!”

Olivia, who still holds back and claims she’s afraid of dogs, did not hesitate to go right up to these big creatures and nimbly caress their flanks. She watched the entire lesson wide-eyed and only seemed more certain every time I asked her, “So you’re sure you want to try this?” I asked the instructor about number$ and equipment and times and we scheduled a trial lesson.

For the next couple of days Olivia would randomly sigh, “I can’t wait to ride Dreamer,” the sweet, small-ish horse the instructor introduced as The Love of Her Life and the one Just Perfect for young, new students to ride.

A couple more days passed, and Olivia abruptly said, “I changed my mind. I don’t want to take horseback riding lessons anymore.”

I was very, very surprised. “Don’t you just want to at least try it?” The instructor already explained that they have new students try two lessons before the parents commit a single dollar: they want to make sure kids are still interested even after the novelty has worn off.  No one wants a child around horses who doesn’t want to be there.

I gently grilled her: Are you afraid? Do you just not like horses anymore? Did you *gasp* hear me talking about the prohibitive cost and think we couldn’t afford it?

No, no, and no. She just wasn’t interested anymore. She finally shrugged, “I just really can’t explain it.”

And neither can I. This isn’t like my baby girl, to not want to try something. But even stranger: she wanted to try it; but now she doesn’t. What changed?

I’m thinking this is divine intervention, and I’m letting it go. Who knows what we may be avoiding? Yes, the cost is high: $340 for eight lessons, plus riding gear. I really didn’t know what I would think if she’d loved it and wanted to continue after we move to California at the end of the year. That’s a lot of money! I should be glad to avoid that. But I can’t help but think…

I was impressed with what I saw during the lesson we visited. Horses are amazing creatures. The instructor was amazing with her students, and very good with meeting Olivia, too. You can learn so much riding horses: confidence; poise; responsibility; assertiveness. Quite frankly, I was sold on our visit and was looking forward to Olivia gaining from the experience, even if for a short time.

Yes, horses can be dangerous: they’re just so big. So many safety precautions are taken, and two- and three-year-olds ride horseback with nary a problem. But you just never know, do you? At least, it looks like we never will. I’ll just chalk this one up to another Mystery I want to ask God about when I get to Heaven. And for now anyway, I’ll listen to my daughter.

More from Jolyn

• The Activities That Almost Were (and the cost of the ones that are).
• Budget-Busters: The Final Tally
• The Cost of Letting a Little Girl Dance

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Tagged as: Kids