One horse and two goats standing in a spring rain storm
A Belly for a Roof
The wind was forcing the trees to mimic the actions of a
buggy whip as it ushered in a spring micro-burst-rain-storm, which is common
during this time of year in the valley resting between the Stansbury and Oquirrh
Mountain ranges of the Rocky Mountains.
It was the kind of storm that made me feel grateful to be in the shelter
of my car as I was making my way home from a meeting.
The water pelted my car and made looking through its side
windows a blurred vision of reality. In
fact, as I took a glance to my right, I worried just a little about whether my peripheral
vision was accurate. I had to look
again.
My neck and head made the same whipping motion as the trees
outside. I slowed the car. I stared!
Had my friend Terry Ehlers been looking through the windows of his home
I’m sure the look on my face would have given him a laugh. My eyes were fully wide and combined with my
mouth to demonstrate a text book gawking position while attached to the end of
a rubber neck. I had never see such a
sight!
One of Terry’s horses was standing, rump to the wind, as
they instinctively do. There was no
surprise there. My disbelief stood
between the front and rear legs, below the belly of the horse. Two goats stood, sheltered, beneath the
horse. They had a belly for a roof. It made me smile and admire their ingenuity.
I also admired the horse.
She stood stoically, steadily for the benefit of the smaller
creatures. I watched as the wind blew
the strands of her long flowing tail, like streaming horse feathers between her
legs. The rain likely stung and caused
her skin to quiver. Yet she stood tall,
a monument to goodness, shelter, safety and the strong caring for the weak. It made me want to be more like her and
nurture those same qualities within my own character.
Luckily, you and I don’t have to be as strong as a horse to
provide shelter, safety and strength to our neighbors. We need only incorporate the four legs of a
horse.
First, we must be able to stand ourselves, take the steps to
be self-sufficient and put away a little extra to share with others.
Second, we must know our neighbors one-on-one. This is not basketball. It simply means making a little effort to
know our neighbors by name, what they like to do, where they work. You know, just get to know them.
Third, on other days when I’ve driven past Terry’s pasture I’ve
seen the goats and horses standing, walking or eating together. Nothing creates better rapport than breaking
a little bread or going on walks with your neighbor. Spend some time. You have to eat and walking is great for you. Why not take a walk or eat together once in a
while?
Fourth. Know what to do when a crisis comes. Horses know they will weather any storm
better by putting their rump into the wind.
It protects the vital parts of their body. Terry’s goats have spent enough time with the
horses that they know how they will react during stormy weather and they know
they can depend on their strength. They
know they are prepared and have the ability to offer them shelter. Our neighbors will know if we re people of steady
character as well, if we’ll allow them to get to know us, and they’ll instinctively
know they can count on and come to us when they need help. They’ll trust us because we’ve shown them who
we are over time, during calm and stormy times.
It was a spring storm outside. I was grateful for some
shelter. The rain pelted my car and made
looking through its side windows a blurred vision of reality. In fact, as I took a glance to my right, I
worried just a little about whether my peripheral vision was accurate. I had to look again.
When I looked, I saw two goats with a belly for a roof! They knew their neighbor could and would
offer them goodness, shelter, safety and caring in the midst of the storm. That’s what good neighbors do.
