The Jar

Earlier this month, Jennifer Buxton wrote a blog post about a cherished hoof pick from her childhood and how it represented her hopes to have a horse of her own some day.

"That reminds me of my jar," I mused. "I should pull it out and look at it."

I knew exactly where it was, even after all these years.

On my bedside table, full of cash from my 1974 (!) trip to Europe that "some day" I'll distribute to the Cowpokes and the Pony Pals.

It's an old Ball canning jar, but like Jennifer's hoof pick, what it represents are my hopes and dreams to have a horse.

The cash that originally was in it was money I earned babysitting. Along with the money was a note, "Dear Thief, this is money for my horse. Please do not steal it. Thanks. Lynn"

Yeah, right, like someone robbing your home would leave a jar of cash alone! But a horse crazy eleven year old whose heart is full of dream wasn't taking any chances on protecting her money!

No thief ever entered our home and when I got Amy, my Dad paid for her and I used the accumulated money to buy her saddle.

I remember running my hands all over it, feeling that soft leather and smelling the leather - still one of my favorite scents. 

I remember thinking, "My dreams have come true!" and the happiness in knowing that I helped make them happen by working for them. Such a feeling!

So much so that the saddle is in the barn at Tim's and the jar remains on my bedside table, just as it did when I was a kid. More childhood memories are in it beside the European money.

A show bill from a long ago horse show. (I carried the flag in the pre-show parade around the grounds - a big thrill at the time.)

A joke in our family about meaningful possessions and things gets said about the glass jar. "That's going to the nursing home with me!"

And it will. (Hopefully a long time in the future! Hah!)