If you were to teach as a career, what would you teach?

Riding Coach

"Keep your head up and watch where you are going." I demonstrate the proper position, hoping he will follow. "Good. Your horse will go where you are looking, because your body naturally leans where you want to go, and so your horse will adjust to follow."

I give my mare, Missy, a gentle nudge and she plods forward at a lazy walk. "Keep your hands in front of your saddle horn. You can steer from there, but most of your cues will come from your weight, legs, and voice. That's why we're riding bareback, so you can feel your horse shift as you do."

The young man I'm teaching, Evan, follows suit, but he leans too far forward, coaxing his horse to pick up pace and pass me.

"Now, with Pleasure, you need to keep your gate calm, collected. You're showing the judge that you are in complete control of your horse. Western Pleasure is supposed to be flowing, easy, gentle. You and your horse are one."

He nods and leans back, as I've taught him. But he leans too far and his horse stops. I love that his horse is picking up on the cues he's giving him immediately. It's a sign that he's teachable and willing to listen to the cues.

"Do you know what happened there?" I ask as I catch up to where Evan and his horse stands.

"No, not exactly. I leaned back and he stopped."

"Correct. Because that's the cue you gave him. You leaned back and rounded your back to keep balance, thus indicating you wanted him to stop." I motion toward his horse in the stopped position. "That was very good on both your parts. The key to slowing your horse, is to stay in upright, yet relaxed position. Your horse will feel if you're tense, because your body will naturally tighten, thus alerting the horse that it needs to be on guard. You see, being a prey animal, horses use every cue from you to sense danger in their surroundings. That's why you must always be calm and relaxed."

He rubs his head. I know I've told him all this before, but a little refresher doesn't hurt.

"Let's try again. This time I will just watch." I move Missy to the center of the arena and watch as Evan does a few circles. He's sitting up straight, relaxed, and his gelding has responded accordingly. He's at a slow walk, but still too fast for my liking. We'll work on that later, for now, posture.

"Keep your shoulders back. Your left one is moving forward. Heels down, toes in, which I know is hard without stirrups, but it will strengthen your legs."

He adjusts his body, looking much better.

"Excellent. Let's pick it up to a trot."

He does a wonderful job at transitioning into the next gate and I applaud him. His posture is still great, but he's bouncing in his seat more than I'd like.

"Go ahead and feel your horse under you. Instead of fighting against his movements, go with them, even if they feel uncomfortable at first. Your muscles will be sore tomorrow, because we're building new ones with these new movements, but they will help you keep your balance and enable you to flow with your horse."

He rounds his back a touch and allows his body to flow with his horse's stride. At first I can see the pain on his face. The trot is the hardest gate to have a smooth ride with, but if he masters this, he will be able to master any other.

After a few more circles around the arena, I ask him to reverse and lope. He does a wonderful job, and his bottom is staying in rhythm with the horse. It's a beautiful thing, seeing horse and rider in symmetry.

"Go ahead and slow him down some. His natural lope is much faster than a pleasure gallop."

Evan adjusts his reins and seat, leaning back, and his horse begins to break into a trot. But Evan urges him on, getting him back into a lope. It takes a few more rounds, but he eventually gets his horse to a slow, easy gallop. His horse's head is low and his gate reflects his ease.

"Let's stop and have you come to the center."

Evan brings his horse up next to mine. "How did I do?"

"Very well. I think with some more practice, you'll be running circles around me."

"I already am." He counters.

I laugh. "Almost. Let's work on your flying lead changes next. I believe it will be a good change without the saddle. Maybe he will feel your cues and transition from one lead to the next easier."

"Sounds good."

"Go ahead and walk him for a bit first, maybe practice some side-passing or tracking to let his breathing get back to even. I don't want him too tired and unable to concentrate on his lead changes."

Evan side passes away from me. He's showing off now.

I pretend to ignore him, but I'm quite impressed. He's been working hard. It shows.
His horse is amazing at the technical things like side passing, spinning, and even sliding stops. In fact, for being only a three year old, his flying lead changes are beautiful. I wouldn't be surprised if they are the ones teaching me someday. It's a wonderful thing, watching the student surpass the teacher, and I look forward to that day.

What color do you feel like today?

Do I answer this question with my rehearsed pageant answer, or do I answer it from my heart?

The question bounces around my head. I try to grab onto it, to form an answer, but it keeps evading me. Maybe there is no answer to that question.

What color do you feel like today? I let the question reform.

Pageant answer: Sunshine yellow. Because I'm glad the sun is shining. I love how the wind is creating waves on the lake, and mini tornadoes throughout my yard. I've had a wonderful morning so far, with a hearty breakfast of oatmeal and toast...blah blah blah...

Or should I really break this question down?

Well, I don't have a favorite color...if I did, it would be a toss up between pink and blue green. But I wonder if those are really my favorite colors, or just the colors my parents always chose for me to wear as a child, so I grew to like them. I wear a lot of white. Does that mean I have no personality? I also like black...does that mean I'm depressed? Right now I am wearing a comfy pink and purple sweatshirt that my mother in law bought for me last year from the Medora Musical. It is a favorite, and I wear it a couple times a week.

But these are all clothing choices. It doesn't really answer the question. I guess I feel that I would subconsciously wear whatever color I feel like.

I know this is strange, but I remember talking about colors and how they affect energy and attitude in my foot zoning class. I remember the teacher having us pick the color of our folders. It was funny, because I chose blue first, but asked to change to red. He gave me a funny look and mentioned that it was interesting. Of course Ted chose yellow. I could've guessed that. But, I felt like I needed the red. It called to me. When I chose the blue, it just didn't feel right. Is that strange? Have you ever experienced that before?

What color do you feel like today?

Hmmm...I am feeling pretty well so far. I feel at peace. So I think I would choose eggshell. It's a peaceful color. Not quite white, so it doesn't hurt the eyes, but not ivory either, so it doesn't look yellowed or dirty. Yes, eggshell is the color I would choose. A peaceful, calm color.

I'm sure my answer will change as the day goes by, depending on my mood and how I feel, but for now, I think I will stick with eggshell.

Write about something you purchased used

The anxiety is palpable. People are pressed together, but unable to hold still. Their energy charges the air with electricity. I rub my forehead and try not to stare at the growing crowd. If the whole day is like this, I'm going to get a migraine.

The cars are lined up outside the huge metal doors. Over five lanes of cars to be auctioned at the same time. I look through the list again, noting a few that I wouldn't mind taking home. I try to keep the lanes and numbers in order, but it's near impossible.

The first car brought in is a slightly used, black, Chevrolet Camero SS. It's gorgeous, and obviously a hit for the auction, as bidders crowd the first lane. The dealers jockey for a good viewing position. Some are close enough to get their toes ran over. The man behind the wheel does well under pressure, and brings it to a precise stop in front of the auction block.

Smiles are exchanged, hands are raised, and the auction begins.

Voices shout over the noise, and prices increase. It looks like a race. Everyone wants a chance at winning.

The Camero sales for over thirty thousand, a bid that's barely below retail. I wonder if that buyer is feeling the Winner's Curse yet.

The rest of the cars slowly pull up to the auction stop, but none draw the same attention.

Amy, the dealer I came to the auction with, doesn't get caught up in the fury. She scans her list and points out vehicles I wouldn't have noticed. She bids on a few, but never on one that she wouldn't own herself.

An unexpected surprise. An unlisted car pulls into the third auction bay. She jumps up and says she'll be right back.

I glance out the floor to ceiling glass windows, the only thing holding potential buyers from overrunning the auction, and catch sight of a bright blue, convertible, Ford Mustang. My breath catches. It's a dream car. Much flashier than the Camero. But where are all the bidders?

Amy comes back inside, tells me the car is in excellent condition, has low miles, and since other dealers are distracted with their previous purchases, it will probably go for a good price.

I didn't intend on buying a sports car today, but know my husband would love this one. We've actually discussed this exact car multiple times in the last couple months. What a surprise it would be if I brought it home to him.

I tell her to go ahead and bid, as long as it doesn't go too high.

The bidding begins. My heart rate picks up. I wring my hands, trying to rid myself of the nervous tension. Then I realize she's the only bidder. The owner approaches her. They appear to be discussing the car. My tension rises another notch.

Amy comes back with a big smile on her face. "Congratulations! You're the proud new owner of that amazing car. And, better yet, the owner had a minimum bid, and it looks like the price will be the same."

The rest of the day drags by, as we wait for the auction to finish so we can go get our purchase.

I'm a touch apprehensive as the auction finally ends. I've never purchased a car without touching, let alone driving it first. But I try to put on a good face, hiding my nervousness.

Buyers are welcomed into the lot. Hundreds of cars are parked in lines, but the bright blue Mustang stands out. It's like a blue M & M in the middle of chocolate. I can't take my eyes off it. With the new design, the car looks sleek, like it could roar into action at a moments notice.

My husband, scratch that, I really like this car. We're going to be arm wrestling over who gets to drive it.

"How do you like it?" The dealer asks, starting the engine. It growls to life, like a bear being woken from a winter's slumber.

"Better than anticipated."

"It's a V-6, but has a turbo, so it'll get up and go plenty fast."

I glance inside, noting the black leather seats and crome trim. This is a car that belongs in the city, getting admiration and applause.

"I don't know how it'll do on the back roads though..."

The dirt road we live on has bumps and holes. Maneuvering around them will be quite the feat, but I'm willing to take it on.

Amy smiles. "Want to take it for a drive?"

I can't hold back my answering smile as I hop in the drivers seat.

A car pulls up beside us. To my surprise, it's the black Camero. The driver rolls down his window and motions me to do the same.

"Nice ride." He nods toward my car.

"You too."

"It'll do." He shrugs and changes the subject. "Where you taking her?"

What is it with men and calling cars women? "Island Park, Idaho."

He smiles. "Wanna take her out for a spin before you hide her away in the mountains? The interstate's less than a mile away. I'm sure you need to fill up on gas too, and there's a station at the next exit."

His reasoning is sound. I do need to get gas, the gage reads less than a quarter tank.

I glance over at Amy, who sits in the passenger seat. She holds up her hands like she's innocent. "It's not up to me."

My chest bubbles with the same enthusiasm that's been infecting the auction all day. It makes me brave. "Sure, why not?"

What do you look forward to every week?

I wake up with a smile on my face, because today is one of the only days I wake up with my husband by my side. I reach over and entwine my fingers with his. His breath is still even, sleeping in being a luxury beyond price. I don't wake him up, just enjoy the undisturbed moment of peace. His face is relaxed, and a day's stubble makes his face scratchy. The red of his beard makes him look more European. If it wasn't for his curly, sandy blond hair, you'd guess he was of Irish, instead of German descent.

A small smile pulls at his lips as he begins to wake up. He rolls towards me and wraps a strong arm around my waist. I take a deep breath, the smell of his deodorant and shower gel, masculine. He is the epitome of man, with thick muscles and broad chest. But the part of him that I love most, is his heart of gold.

Our son throws our door open, shattering the calm. It crashes against the wall stopper.

"Daddy?" He gets just as excited as I do for our Sunday mornings.

"Come here," I whisper.

Hesston crawls between us, nestling into our chests. He closes his eyes, and smiles, finishing with a sigh.

The movement of Hesston has woken Ted, his blue eyes open.

I forget how blue they are, like a clear, noonday sky. They warm as he realizes who is encircled in his arms.

"Love." Ted murmurs into Hesston's hair.

Hesston murmurs back and cuddles deeper. When Hesston opens his eyes, I see Ted in them, the same blue, with a sweet innocence that can't be replicated.

By the time I get ready and enter the church's chapel, I'm physically prepared to be spiritually fed. It's the moment I look forward to every week. I know that if I just make it through the days, that pretty soon, Sunday will roll around, and I will get to spend some quality time with my family and friends, refilling my spiritual cup through the testimony of others, and the teachings of the prophets and apostles. It's a knowledge of surety in the midst of uncertainty. It's a place I can find refuge from the worldly storms. And the peace I find there, is as unreplicateable as the pattern in Hesston's eyes.

The day will be a flurry of activity, with meetings, and classes, and people to see. But amid all the busyness, there is a respite of spirit. A quiet assurance that I'm in the right place at the right time. And the peace that fills my heart, brings gladness into my life.

For three hours, I am surrounded by profound teachings, made simple enough that even a three year old can understand. The gospel is as simple or complicated as you make it. For me, it's just what I need. The teacher's present Christ's teachings, and I feel the spirit testify of it's truth. Knowledge like that is priceless. And it's something I yearn for. My cup will never be full enough. I will always thirst for more spiritual knowledge, because it is a never ending well, deep enough to quench the thirst of all souls.

I pray for spiritual guidance when I teach. To be able to reach the people in my class, and help them better understand the love Heavenly Father has for them. It's a task accomplished with the Savior by my side. I could never teach without Him, for He is the answer to all of life's questions.

By the time I return home, a new kind of peace has settled over the house. One that is different than the peace in the morning. It's a peace of the soul. And just as the gospel is a refuge from the storm, my house becomes a refuge from every day life. A place where I can rest from my labors and remember what is truly important.

I can tell by the look on my loved one's faces, that they too feel the peace in their hearts. It's something I cherish. And I look forward to seeing those precious faces each and every day for the rest of eternity. This is our loving Heavenly Father's plan.

What is the first thing you do when you wake up every morning? Why?

Sleep begins to pull away. Light behind my eyelids causes me to squint. I take a deep breath and stretch the remnants of my dream back into dreamland.

The house is quiet. Filtered sunlight casts the bedroom in a warm glow. A peaceful feeling fills my chest. All is well. I've made it through another night.

The sound of a door opening alerts me that Hesston has woken up too.

I lie still, closing my eyes, and listening.

Footsteps charge into my bedroom, then pause. Soft breath brushes my face. I count the seconds before my son roars at me.

Opening my eyes and kicking my limbs, I pretend to be frightened, like he's the scariest animal on the planet.

"I scare you?" He asks with a giggle.

"You scare me." I answer.

A big smile lights up the cutest face on the planet.

I ruffle his blond hair, and pull him onto the bed for cuddles. He curls up next to me and gives me the warmest morning welcome, a big hug.

"I love you."

"Love you, momma." He responds.

My day has officially begun.

Hesston and I love to play the scare game. I think he knows I'm awake, waiting for him to scare me. But, it's just so much fun seeing the satisfaction of a good scare on his face, first thing in the morning. His giggles and smiles carry me throughout the day.

Have you ever lived in another country besides your country of birth? Would you want to?

I clutch my weathered suitcase to my side. My immigration papers in my other hand look pristine compared to the beat up leather exterior. Probably because they haven't seen the light of day since England. My poor bags tell a different story.

I shudder as I think of the ship we've just left in the water behind us. I don't dare look back, in fears that they will shove me back on deck. The three months it took to cross the ocean passed with too much pain and life experience to recall. I must look forward. Not back. Here is my future, where I plan to be.

The family in front of me take a step closer to the station's door. We're lined up like cattle, waiting our turn to be branded into a new life. I wonder what the new world will see in me. Will I be enough to survive?

I put on my best dress this morning, one that I haven't worn since I left home. I figured it would be best to welcome this new country of mine. Maybe if I dress up for it, it will welcome me better. My shoes are a stark contrast. The leather has been blasted by salt water, and become stiff, making it hard to walk. But I'll manage. It's only me, after all, that chose this life, and I'm not about to back down to the harsh trails ahead of me. The sea has taught me something: I can do hard things.

The hardened faces of my shipmates show the same story as mine. We began this journey like infants, unknown to the hardships of life. But now we know what true sacrifice is, and how it changes the soul. We're not backing down. Not after everything we've lost.

I wonder how many had to cast a loved one to a watery grave. I should've kept count. But after the fifth child, my heart couldn't stand the ache.

A small tremble builds in my hand left hand as I remember the way a tiny child held onto me as her mother lay sick and dying next to her. The father had stayed behind, working to pay for the expensive travel fare. They could only afford two tickets, and he gave them to those he loved most. The baby girl is with another family now. One who has her wrapped in their arms. I pray she'll see her father again. A life without family is hard. I'm learning that myself.

As the line moves again, I wonder if the journey across land will be worse than water. After all, I will most likely be walking. My shoes stab my toes in a tight embrace. Better figure out a way to fix that, or else I'll lose my big toe by the time I reach my destination.

Before I know it, I'm inside the wooden doors, being ushered to a window with a sharp boned man behind the desk.

"Papers." He demands.

I hand them to him.

He glances at me. Stares into my eyes, like he's looking for someone else. I look away, unable to hold his eyes.

"It's just you? No family?" He pauses. I nod my confirmation. "Did they die on the voyage?"

"No sir. It's just me."

He glances at my papers. "But you're only...eighteen. Surely someone has accompanied you."

"Plenty of people have accompanied me, sir." I motion around the room, noticing the immigration process being much faster for my fellow travelers.

He waves away my refute. "Yes, but..." He sighs.

My legs begin to shake. I pray there is nothing wrong with my papers. I boarded the ship without a hitch. Why am I feeling like I've done something wrong.

I take a deep breath and straighten my shoulders. I've just managed to place my feet on firm soil. I'm not willing to let that ground shake me off already.

He's scanning my papers. It takes him a while to get to the end. I've about lost my nerve when he looks up at me again. His puzzled expression lightens.

"Well, Adelina, welcome to America. A great nation where freedom and opportunities abound. All you have to do is, be in the right place at the right time, and you'll succeed. Seeing as you've made it this far, I can't imagine you not becoming a contributing member of society. Anyone who has enough gumption to travel over two thousand miles to a new country, all on their own, has got to be strong."

A small smile crosses my lips. "Thank you, sir."

"Where are you headed after this?"

I wonder if I should be forthcoming with this stranger, but quickly decide I can be, since he just welcomed me to his country, a fellow citizen. "I plan to head west."

"To the frontier?"

I nod. "The same."

A sparkle lights his eye a moment before a smile emerges. "Then you'll want to head south of here. There's a band of travelers headed west tomorrow morning. You can't miss them. They're going to Illinois, which is the edge of civilization out there. And, as fortune would have it, my wife, two young boys, and myself will also be traveling with them. So, it looks as though we will be getting to know each other a little better."

I'm surprised. I don't know whether to be excited or nervous by this revelation. I decide it doesn't hurt to trust someone. After all, if I am going to succeed in this life, I need to open my heart sometime. "Thank you, sir. I will be pleased to meet your family."

His smile turns mischievous. "You say that now, but wait until you spend a day with my boys. They ask so many questions, it makes my head spin."

"Then I shall rather like them."

He turns thoughtful. "I do believe you and my wife will be friends, which will be good. A woman needs strong friends, to help get through all you must bear together."

I don't know what he means, but figure his age and wisdom surpasses mine. "Until tomorrow then."

He stamps my papers, places them in a pile and begins to fill out a new form. "These are your citizenship papers. Keep them with you at all times." Once he's finished, he hands them over. "I just need your signature, and then you can be on your way."

I sign, which comes out looking much better than anticipated.

He organizes all my information, handing me the papers I need, and explaining what is what. My head spins. This is really happening. After all the waiting, and praying for survival, I am now a free citizen. A sense of pride fills my chest as tears collect in my eyes, threatening to spill over. I wipe at them with the back of my sleeve.

"Remember, head south. There's a supply shop not two blocks from here, and you'll find the people you're looking for."

I offer my thanks and head for the door, feeling like a newborn, taking my first breath. This country is now my home. A home I will never leave. I feel it in my bones.

It will be worth the sacrifice in the end. It has to be. I just pray my children and their children appreciate my sacrifice too.

What modern technological device takes up most of your time?

I scan through the book titles, admiring my collection. Can't believe it's only been a couple years since I started using my Kindle for all my book buying and reading. There are times when I miss the smell of new book pages, or the crinkling of the binding. But overall, my experience has improved.

I began buying books on the Kindle when Hesston was born. He would startle at the sound of pages being turned. That was easily fixed by doing all online books. Not only did the page turn with the click of the finger, but I was now able to read without the lights on. This became really handy when I wanted to read while Hesston nursed, or when he fell asleep in my arms. It also became much easier to hold my device rather than hold a book. If I had to read at a distance, I could increase the font. If the words were too bright, I could decrease the brightness.

I was able to access millions of titles, and have a book within seconds, delivered right to my device. I must admit, the convenience of Kindle outweighs the waiting for delivery, even if it is only 2 days. I was able to get new releases the second they came out. Digital format has a built in dictionary. If you don't understand a word, click on it, and a definition will appear. You can highlight text, and bookmark pages.

Being able to read at anytime was a huge benefit for me, because being a social person, and having to stay at home so much, books became my social outlet. I was able to explore different worlds, see different perspectives, and have my mind opened through the books. It increased my reading speed, and I can read through a book in less than a day.

Being able to switch from your book to your email, texts or phone calls is also super convenient. It's simply the touch of a button, and you can switch tasks like shifting gears.

Another big benefit is cost. I love that the kindle books are easily half price of regular print. It has helped my budget, and saved me hundreds of dollars. And if you're like me, affordability is key.

If you don't have your own Kindle, or Kindle App on your phone. Go check it out today. It is well worth the sacrifice. Still not convinced? The Kindle App is free, and you can download it to any device. You can share your library with all your devices. Or can share with friends and family. When you read from one device and switch to another, your app with mark your progress and sync it to the new device, after asking for approval. No need to go backtracking for page numbers. It also shows your progress, and you can share what you've read online. It's a great tool, one that every reader should take advantage of.