In riding a horse, we borrow freedom - Helen Thompson

We arrived at the horse rescue where we would spend the next three weeks volunteering, and were greeted like long lost friends by the handful of tireless beings holding space for these majestic animals.

Forty-five faces, each with a story to tell, dotted the landscape of this space they were now being asked to call home.

Some wore their heads high in resilient defiance of the hand they had been dealt.

Others stared off into the distance, still believing someone would come for them.

There were those whose heads hung low as they picked up the pieces of their broken spirits.

Then there were the few who rocked back and forth in the memory of their flight without wings.

Looking into their eyes, we knew our thoughts were many, yet our hearts echoed the grace of our collective human spirit.

We knew we had come here by choice, not chance.

We knew the essence of our purpose here was to care.

We knew the time had come for us to serve…to serve generously and with love.

We knew that amidst the resilient and the broken lay a part of our greater self.