This is a post about my girl. My first girl. She’s the first one to simultaneously fill my heart to overflowing and stomp it to bits, because she’s the one who made me a mother. 

About a year and a half ago I wrote a piece about her that describes her so well, I’ve decided to include it here as a tribute to her freshly turned 22-year-old self. It should be new to most all of you, as there were only about two people that read my blog at that time, and one was my own mother! 

So, without further ado, Happy Birthday Sweet Girl!


No, that post title isn’t a typo. That is what my first darling daughter used to sing at the top of her lungs, back when she had a little trouble saying her “r’s”. “Home, Home on the Wange…whewe the deew and the antewope pway.” Okay, the “l” sound presented a bit of a challenge as well. *grin* Fortunately, she outgrew her speech problems, but she never did grow out of her love of the life the imagination conjures with this song.

My girl could make every animal sound imaginable before she could actually name the animal. She loved them all, but horses reigned supreme. I really don’t remember a time that she didn’t pour over horse books and watch horse movies over and over. Since her dad grew up with quarter horses, it seemed natural that at least one of our girls would show an interest, but we figured she would probably lose her interest eventually, as often happens. 

But not this one. 

She began lessons around the age of 9; spent every Saturday at the barn; got right back in the saddle after a broken leg from a riding accident; finally got a horse of her own for whose care she got up at 5:30 am on freezing school mornings (without complaint); started training; saved money and purchased another horse on her own; learned the ins and outs of dealing with horse traders; learned to drive a pickup and pull/backup a horse trailer like a pro; began showing horses; was honored to be the local 4-H Cowgirl Queen and would later be named the Iowa Buckskin Horse Association Senior Queen. I could go on and on, but you get the picture. 

Her interest never waivered, and still hasn’t – even in college. She’s known what she wanted to do with her life from almost the very beginning.

How often do you find someone who is so passionate about something, that they have a very clear vision of what

they’re meant to do? In my experience, not very often. I have always admired this quality in my daughter. I will also admit to being a little jealous of it at times, finding myself wishing that I had such clarity. God has put this amazing heart and drive and work ethic in her, and a love for His creatures that is hard to rival. 

I know that one day she‘ll be working her horses at her “home on the wange” and her heart will be right where it was meant to be all along.