Rocking Horses
I have always wanted a rocking horse and I am determined to purchase one at
some stage in my life.
This desire for a rocking horse manifested itself in the fifties when I was a
small child. We spent holidays staying with my grandparents in Northumberland
and in the nursery was a hugh rocking horse that used to belong to my mother and
her brothers and sisters.
This was a dapple grey rocking horse with a beautiful red leather saddle and
bridle. The horse had a flowing horse hair mane and tail and was so tall that we
had to be lifted on to his sturdy frame.
There were always fights with my brother and sister as we had to take turns to
ride on this rocking horse. When each turn had come to an end we never wanted to
get off. I can remeber clinging on for grim death as I was literally dragged off
the horse and then patiently waiting my turn for another go!
We all thought this rocking horse was absolutely perfect.
We did not notice that he was very worn - his mane and tail were thin from
contstant brushing and his paint work scratched. The red bridle and saddle had
many of the gold studs missing and the leather was cracked and parched. The bit
in his mouth was very rusty and so were the stirrups and one of his ears was
chipped.
This is hardly surprising as he was already 50 years old and had been in
constant use!
Roll forward 40 years and we all find ourselves travelling back to our
grandparents home. They passed away many years ago and my much younger cousin
lives there now. As we turn into the drive I suddenly remember the rocking
horse. Surely he cannot still be there in the nursery.
These thoughts are put to one side as we arrive for the christening of my
cousins first born. After the ceremony we return to the house for tea.
Can I sneak upstairs to the Nursery to see if the rocking horse is still there.
I can hardly contain my excitement - and am then told that the whole nursery
wing has been turned into a flat!
But where is the rocking horse I blurt out to my cousin?. He seemed very
surprised - I did not realise that you loved him as well.
We all did chimed my brother and sister and we all wonder if he is still here.
May be, was the guarded reply!
Five minutes on and the christening speeches begin. We notice a white sheet in
the corner covering a huge object.
Yes, it was the rocking horse. He was then unveiled and looked magnificent. His
dapple coat was shining, mane and tail thick and flowing, brand new red leather
tack, gleaming metal bit and stirrups.
He had been lovingly restored to his former glory and was being given as a
christening present to this tiny baby.
As I looked around the room I could see the tears of emotion in everyones eyes.
My mother who is now ninety years old recalled the happiness this rocking horse
had given her and so did my sixty year old sister, my brother, myself, my
nephews and nieces and my own children.
It was so lovely to be able to look forward and visualise the years of pleasure
he would be giving to the next generation.
A rocking horse could be described as the circle of life, a family heirloom to
be enjoyed and passed on.
I must try and save up to buy one very soon to coincide with the arrival of my
first grandchild!
