Riding lessons. Ah...I seldom took them, never wanted to give them, not really a fan. My riding lessons as a child consisted of going on trail rides with my Aunt (who I later bought my first pony from), being taught as we rode through the woods and the fields and such.
Before coming to India this time, the closest thing to giving lessons I had ever done was showing friends how to ride my horses when they came over. Then I came here, and I was told that I would be teaching riding lessons to jr school students. In a way, I didn't have any idea how much I would enjoy it at times. But I also didn't realize how difficult it would be at other times.
Today, I had a boy named Daniel come for lessons. He was part of the horse club, and has been doing these lessons for a few weeks now. For some reason, he has suddenly convinced himself that riding is scary, and he can't do it. He has always been hesitant, but he suddenly decided he didn't want to ride. Hercules was too tall, he would knock Herc over if he tried to mount. There were so many excuses for why he couldn't ride.
And it finally came down to, "Miss Laura, do I have to ride? I don't want to ride." It was not the request of a boy who just isn't fond of riding, it was the request of a boy who has totally freaked himself out of riding. He has always asked me what will happen if he tips the horse over, but usually it isn't a terribly serious question. Today however, he was very serious.
I coaxed Daniel into getting on Herc, and he seemed like he would be ok. For a few minutes. As we were going down the road, something surprised Hercules. He stopped, staring nervously, and did not want to move forward. Daniel panicked, feeling that he could not control Herc.
His eyes filled with tears, and he said in a shaky voice, "Miss Laura, I feel like I need to get down." I almost let him get off of Hercules, but I couldn't let him quit. So, feeling like a horrendously mean person, I refused to let Daniel get down. Fortunately, he is not one to just jump down on his own. I held Herc still for a little while as I talked Daniel through his fears. We continued for a short distance farther, with him looking like a kicked puppy. Gradually though, that look started to fade. By the end of our ride, he was not exactly ecstatic over the fact that he was on horseback, but he was not terrified anymore, and seemed to be enjoying himself at least a little bit (though he was still trying to act like he was not enjoying himself.
I felt mean during this time, but I would have felt far worse had I let him give up on riding. I have no problem with someone not riding because they don't like it, but when it's obvious that the reason for not riding is because they're scared, it's not ok. We're doing lessons with these kids, not therapy, but often even a normal riding lesson is a sort of therapy. We help these kids get over their fears, grow in confidence, and so many other things. Sometimes I get to looking at the lessons as just lessons, and that's when I get annoyed with the kids, and their hesitance, and complaining. And then I remember that lessons are not what Leg Up is for. They're not why I am in India. I am here, and Leg Up exists to show God's love through these ponies, and to make a difference in the lives of those we touch, whether it is rescued girls, or handicapped children, or kids that go to Hebron.
