Bridge Called Hope Page 6

  His presence had brightened her before … perhaps he could do it again. I led my little blond boy over onto the grass near Angelica and dropped his rope.

  Although he was free to graze, wander, or do whatever young horses wish to do … he chose to stand fast. Instead of satisfying his own instinctive needs by grazing, his intentions were fixed only on Angelica. Repeating what he had just done in the round pen, he took slow and deliberate steps toward the recovering girl.

  As if not to wake her, he stretched his golden neck to its full length and with the speed of a setting sun, slowly lowered his chin until it rested on her temple. Because he was above her, she did not see his approach and she did, indeed, startle.

  “Oh! It’s you,” she said, when she realized who was touching her. Then, she completely relaxed beneath the contact of his muzzle.

  Once again, I stood in complete amazement of the simple awareness of a young horse to a young girl. All horse owners know that all horses graze all the time. That’s what horses do … all but this horse. He seemed to understand, and chose instead to stand guard over a very sick child who needed him more than he needed to fill his belly with grass.

  Before me stood a young recovering horse standing guard over a young recovering girl. It seemed as if our roles had now reversed. Now it was I who could only watch in pure, astonished wonder while thinking, Did you teach him to do that? No … he did it because he wanted to. He must really like her a lot!

  It was now my turn to stand in near slack-jawed amazement as this glorious wonder found its way into my heart.

  A special call came in mid-November. It was Brenda, a dear friend. As a parent, I have told her that she ranks in my book as a superstar. Yet, in typical Bren fashion, she only rolls her eyes and makes some self-deprecating comment like, “If you only knew! Just ask my kids, they’ll tell you what a star I am!”

  I not only love Bren because she loves her own kids, which one would easily expect … I also deeply admire her because she leads the way in loving those children who can be a challenge to love. Not only does she have three of her own children, she also has three adopted children and has been a temporary mother to many more foster children. I am constantly amazed at how easily she weaves the lives of hurting children in and around her own kids’ lives and encourages both to change each other for the better. Truly, she is one of the most heroic and selfless women I know.

  As Brenda began speaking, I could immediately hear that her easy-going manner was strained. Her normal “roll with the punches” outlook sounded stretched and thin. Concern rose in my chest for my friend as she began our conversation with “I need to ask you for a favor …”

  After a long and convoluted explanation, I clearly understood why her voice sounded so “tight.” She had explained to me how her family had taken in a small, six-year-old boy, Jason, and his infant half sister. They were received into their home in September after their single mother was incarcerated.

  The situation was further complicated by the fact that Jason’s mother, though having never been married, had children with several different men. Therefore, the tiny half sister was released two months later to her biological father. And even though this “father” named Andy truly loved Jason and was the only “dad” that he had ever known … Jason could not go home with him because he was not his biological father and he had no legal right to be involved in his life outside the presence of his mother. Sadly, Andy was just another man who had moved into—and out of—Jason’s life. Unfortunately, at that time, the whereabouts of Jason’s real father was unknown.

  Brenda continued to explain how, on that cool September afternoon, a little boy and his tiny sister were brought to her home—complete strangers—and left. In a heart-demolishing moment, the only dad the boy knew came and picked up the baby sister … and drove away without him. In an instant, Brenda’s brand new six-year-old foster son had lost his mother, his “father,” and the only sister he had. All those he knew to be his family, in his eyes, were gone … forever.

  As Brenda spoke, I realized that I knew this child. I had met him once before while bumping into the family in a local grocery store. What I remembered most about him were his eyes. Like many kids, he possessed beautiful blue eyes, but what set his apart were his eyelashes. In all my life, on either adult or child, I had never seen such magnificent eyelashes. They were so remarkably long that they brushed not only his cheeks … but his brows as well.

  Brenda shared with me how he had mournfully cried, grieving his incredible loss for many nights, and woke up an equal number of mornings in a wet bed. Day by day this broken child began to come to terms with the truth that his life would never be the same.

  Within the safety and love of Brenda and her family, Jason slowly began to emerge. His shy expression melted into a smile and gradually into boyish play. Bit by loving bit, the little boy started to rise in the morning with a subtly renewed confidence … and a dry bed.

  Incredibly, within this highly fractured family, Jason’s maternal grandparents were located and began to show great involvement with their grandson. After he spent many fun-filled outings with them, his grandparents made it openly known to all that their intentions were to obtain legal guardianship of Jason. Being in their forties, they were still young and had decided that they could give him a loving, stable, and permanent home. Jason was overjoyed.

  Brenda continued Jason’s tale of woe by observing how his new horizon of hope was crushed beyond recognition when the grandparents realized it was possible that their daughter, Jason’s mom, might eventually be released from jail and want to reclaim him—which would be a complicated, emotional bridge that they did not wish to cross. Almost as suddenly as they entered his life, Jason’s grandparents exited. To say that Jason was distraught might be the same as saying it smarts a little to be run over by a train. Brenda recounted how his sense of rejection and devastation reached a new and overwhelming low.

  Because of the constant love that surrounded him, Jason fought like a drowning child, once again, struggling to reach the surface of his own life.

  After many weeks, Brenda was contacted by Jason’s case worker. Miraculously, his biological father had now been found. Through a messy tangle of circumstances, Travis had become separated from his son and had been searching for him for many years. He had full understanding that his son would not remember him and that Jason had since been cared for by many men who had stepped into the role of “father.” Travis made it clear that he wished to re-enter his son’s life as gently as possible and hopefully become the family that Jason needed most.

  The case worker had arranged a neutral meeting in ten days.

  Brenda continued her sad saga by relating how both she and the case worker agreed that they would not put Jason’s heart through another trial of “high hopes” only to have them trampled again. If Jason were to safely meet his biological father, it would be best for his tender heart if his father’s identity was not revealed to him until they were sure that Jason felt comfortable and safe within Travis’s presence.

  Initially, Brenda related that the case worker was going to set up the meeting within a bowling alley because it was a fun and open, kid-friendly place. But Bren, knowing the true depth of Jason’s loss and continued suffering, understood that this environment was too noisy and too public if Jason needed a safe retreat. She intuitively knew that Jason required a place to go where meeting a stranger wouldn’t be so strange. “Kim … can we set up the meeting at the ranch?” was her true reason for calling.

  I was grateful that the appointed day for Jason to meet his real father fell on an afternoon when the ranch was closed. Coming over on her day off, Sandy, who was part of the ranch staff, volunteered to help me with this very tenuous encounter. She offered to bring out an extra horse so that Brenda’s older kids could also ride in the arena, and this might make the day feel more “natural.”

  Before Brenda and her family arrived, a strange car pulled into the ranch’s main yard.
From it exited a very nervous young man and his mother. I introduced myself to Travis, Jason’s father, and to his grandmother, and tried to make them feel as comfortable as possible. I knew that they both lived in Idaho and neither had seen Jason in approximately five years. Together they had driven a great distance and must surely be exhausted … both physically and emotionally. In an effort to relieve their understandable anxiety, I invited them both to join me across the driveway to meet some of our baby horses. As we scratched the young horses, many silent prayers rose for the outcome of this extremely fragile day. It was very apparent that not only was a child’s heart in peril of being destroyed … but his father’s heart as well.

  The case worker soon arrived, and not long afterward Brenda’s van also pulled into the yard. To help camouflage and “normalize” the meeting, Brenda wisely decided to bring four of her older kids along with Jason. Not wishing to set him up for a heart break, Brenda shared only that there would be a few “others” at the ranch as well. Immediately, with the acute sensitivity that only a foster child can have, his apprehension began to rise with the very real awareness that he might be abandoned with strangers once again. Brenda, realizing his rising fear, quickly followed with, “Hey, it’s really cold today. How about when we all get home, we will all together make hot chocolate with marshmallows …” Although visibly relieved, Jason knew something was up.

  Lord, this is it; please help heal what is left of this family … I prayed as I gently moved a very nervous young man and his equally tense mother toward the lost remnant of what was once a family.

  Introductions flew back and forth in a tangled jumble of words, handshakes, and hugs. Everyone but Jason was acutely aware of the incredible impact that the next few moments would hold.

  I watched him as he looked up into the face of the man who was his real father … with absolutely no recognition at all. I could not even begin to imagine the shattering pain raining down within Travis’s heart at that moment. Travis bent down, took his sunglasses off and gently introduced himself.

  I could hardly believe what I was seeing once this man’s sunglasses were removed … there were revealed the most incredibly blue eyes … framed by the longest eyelashes I had ever seen. They, too, not only brushed his cheeks … but his brows as well. Wonder totally enveloped me as I watched near mirror images greet each other face to face.

  Sandy took Brenda’s kids and began tacking up Jasmine, an older, gray Appaloosa mare. I invited Travis to join Jason, Nathan (the youngest of Brenda’s kids), and me as we groomed and tacked up Teva, a wonderfully short and sweet palomino mare.

  My own concerns for Travis began to rise as I became acutely aware of his sudden pallor transformation. His skin tone seemed to be changing quite suddenly from an adrenalized flushed pink to a clammy white. After politely excusing himself, Travis seemed to be spending more time behind the round pen than with our little gathering at the hitching post. I wasn’t certain, but within such an emotionally charged environment, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was throwing up.

  Travis had been made aware that his lost son’s life had been disastrous. He understood that as much as he wanted to, he could not rush in and scoop up his son in a flurry of kisses. Though he ached to, he could not say, “Hey, I’m your dad, I love you, and I’m taking you home with me.” He acknowledged that in order for this meeting to be “processed” by Jason … he had to go slow and wait for the right moment.

  As the two little boys and I led Teva out into the arena, Jason looked up at me with a small furrow between his brows. “I’ve never ridden a horse before,” he admitted in a very quiet voice. He was afraid. “We’re okay; how ’bout if Nathan rides first so that you can see for yourself how lovable Teva is?” I replied in a voice that I hoped would give him comfort.

  Since Nathan had ridden before, I was a little surprised when he also was a bit hesitant. It was clear that the best thing to do was settle him in the saddle and just stand quiet for a moment. I invited Travis to come out into the arena and walk on the off side of Teva as I led her, just so that Nathan would feel “extra safe.”

  It didn’t occur to me until several laps later, when Nathan was calling and waving to everyone that would wave back, that this truly was the perfect scenario for Jason to get to know his dad.

  “Okay, now it’s Jason’s turn,” I announced from the arena as I helped a triumphant Nathan down the mounting block.

  I watched as Jason made his way through the arena’s sand. His helmeted little head was down and his demeanor looked as if he had just been asked to “walk the plank.” Fear clung to him like his small, rumpled coat.

  As I helped Jason climb to the top of the mounting block, I explained to him that he could step across onto the saddle when he felt like he was ready, and that all together we would stand still for as long as he wished.

  There, on the top of the mounting block, Jason stood as frozen as a statue.

  I could only guess at what must have been going through his head. I wondered if within his mighty contemplation he was considering how much this paralleled his life … stepping out into the unfamiliar … to do the unthinkable … with the unknown.

  Jason’s father was standing on the other side of the horse. Jason studied the saddle for some time … then looked across into the face of his father … and reached out.

  Within that moment of catching his son, I am certain that Travis was intensely grateful for his sunglasses. While trying to balance on the high wire of what he needed to do … and what he wanted to do, Travis was nearly as stiff as a wooden soldier.

  The thinly veiled emotion of everyone involved was beginning to crack.

  To ease Jason’s fears, I asked him a barrage of simple questions. In no time he began to relax, and our trio set off to circle the arena.

  As Jason became more confident, I rotated my attention to Travis. As with his son, I wished to relieve his tension by asking him easy questions about what he loved. After Travis had spoken freely about many things, it was as simple as a child’s game to “connect the dots.” “Wow! Travis likes to hike. Jason, I bet that you like to hike too! Travis thinks that swimming is pretty fun. Jason, what do you think? Do you like to swim?”

  With tentative steps, father and son began to cross the newly forged bridge that lay between them. Slowly, they started speaking directly to each other.

  As we came around by the arena gate, I looked into Travis’s face and smiled. He understood my expression when I silently passed Teva’s lead rope to him and walked away. My arms prickled with anticipated hope as behind me … a gentle verbal “rainbow” was beginning to take shape. I could hear the first, soft-spoken bonds starting to form between a father and his boy.

  After many laps together, punctuated with animated gestures, stories, and even a bit of muted laughter, Travis led Teva and Jason up to the fence where the rest of us had gathered. With Sandy and the older kids trotting raucous laps in the background, the case worker indicated to Brenda that she thought it was time … time for Jason to be told the truth about this new “friend” that he was beginning to trust.

  With every step that Brenda took toward Jason, I could sense tension rising within all of the adults. So much was at risk. So much damage had already been done. Both father and son had already suffered so greatly. What would happen if Jason broke, if he refused to accept this “nice guy” as his father? Could this young father bear another moment of not embracing the lost son that inexcusable circumstances had stolen from him?

  While sitting nearby on the arena fence, I felt like my chest was so brittle that if I took a breath, it might splinter into a million pieces. I could not begin to understand what Travis’s heart must have felt like. Lord … we need Your help …

  With undeniable courage, Brenda stopped on the opposite side of Teva. She took a deep breath and looked directly into Jason’s eyes. His expression began to change; he knew that something big was coming.

  “Honey, I know that you understand that
‘Andy’ was your dad, and he took good care of you and your little sister. But when your mom went away, Andy couldn’t take both of you because, you remember, he was not your birth dad. Before Andy, your mom knew another man and you were born. Then your mom knew Andy, and then your sister was born.”

  Brenda paused for this gentle reminder to firm up within Jason’s memory. “Honey, remember earlier today when you met Travis? Do you remember looking at his eyes?” At this mention, Travis silently removed his sunglasses. “Jason, his eyes are blue and look just like your eyes …”

  Jason turned and openly stared at Travis.

  Travis’s shoulders were forward, his chin was low, his hands were in front of him literally “white knuckling” the lead rope. Everything about his posture was pleading for his son to accept him … as his father.

  Jason turned back toward Brenda and with childlike innocence stated, “Andy’s eyes are also blue …” Brenda continued with gentle grace, “Yes, Andy’s eyes are a beautiful blue as well, and he loves you very much … but Travis’s eyes look like yours … because they are yours. You see, Andy is the dad who raised you, but Travis is the dad who made you. The same blood inside him is the same blood that is inside you.” Jason’s attempt to process this new information showed as his eyes slowly moved from staring at Travis’s face … to staring at the blood that pulsed within his wrists.

  Brenda cautiously moved on. “Travis remembers you. He remembers holding you when you were a baby, and loving you very, very much. He has been looking for you for a long time … and now he has found you. Travis wants to keep on loving you … because he is your dad. Do you think that would be okay? Travis would like to come to our house and visit you. He loves you Jason … and he doesn’t ever want to lose you again.”

  Jason continued to stare at Travis. Again, his small eyebrows came together as he fought to understand exactly who this nice man was that stood before him. Finally, Jason looked back toward Brenda with a surprisingly relaxed expression. Apparently, he had decided that everything she had shared was okay with him.