“Clack, clack, dum-da-da-dum.” Ah the familiar sound of plastic horse legs as they fight and run together in imagination and adventure. This was the theme song of my youth I’m pretty sure. I was born horse crazy. My earliest memories involve looking down at a horses mane. But, alas I was a town kid and owning a horse was not within my grasp until I was a young adult. Never the less I always loved them and a huge part of coping with the reality that I couldn’t own a real horse meant owning as many Breyer Horses as possible.
I remember as a child going to the local drug store and staring at the small collection they carried. Once one caught my fancy it meant begging mom to stop there every week, just to make sure the model I was after had not been sold. I was not gifted very many of these treasures. No, I had to work for them and work I did. I would do just about anything when I had my eye on a model horse, whatever chore would put another quarter, fifty cents or dollar in my pocket, I did it.
On rare and special occasions when there was concern that the one horse I really wanted might be purchased before I had saved enough, my dear father would go get it. That horse would be out of reach until every last cent was paid. I have since learned that this was no small feat as these “toys” were not cheap. Talking to my dad about it recently, I was told that some of these horses cost a days wages. Oh how this makes me love my father more, for I know what a days wages are worth now.
And even as I out grew these ponies I have hung on to them all these years. They once decorated my room, then my apartments. As a newlywed they still found their place on a high shelf added to the few that Kyle had received as gifts (he did not see the need for them, but I would not hear of them going.) I never really thought much about why I hung on to them all these years. Yes, now I could give them to my children, but I didn’t want to, not just yet.
Well, years have passed and we have moved many times. These horses have been packed away ever since. The box of these little creatures was uncovered the other day as we were cleaning out the garage in preparation for an upcoming yard sale. Kyle (brave soul that he is) suggested that since they have not left the box in more than three years perhaps it was time to let them go.
What an awful thought, to sell my precious horses. But I let the idea settle on me, who really needs 20 plastic horses? No, not I. My years of enjoying them are over. Not to mention I try so hard not to be too attached to things. So, with a deep breath I struck the bargain that yes, I would sell Kyle’s models and most of my own, reserving only a few of the most precious ones to pass on to the kids when they showed an interest.
So, today I pulled out the box and with ebay on the the screen I began to calculate their worth. Not much, a few gems, but really they were just my toys with far more sentimental value than monetary. Further reason I suppose to pass them along.
But, as I unwrapped each model the boys would ask its name, or what kind of horse it was and before I knew it all the stories with the horses began to unfold again. This time the light of the adventure was not in my eyes, but in the eyes of my children.
Before I knew what happened none of the horses were for sale any longer and the herd was being established on our living room floor, some of the play was so familiar and some very new. But, still the, “clack, clack, dum-da-da-dum” of little horses filled our ears and made my heart pick up its pace for I knew the thrill my children were experiencing as they played and imagined.
And silly as it sounds I am really so happy to see these horses played with and loved again.