Wisdom and Grace: Growing up in the saddle – Part 2

To My Beloved Grandchildren,

Most of the time when I share my childhood memories with you, your reaction is “That couldn’t be true” or “So what, no big deal.” You’ve been trained well not to say something like that out loud but I can sense it. I am writing this letter so that in 20, 30 or 40 years you just might like to know what your Grandma Ila’s childhood really was like.

I grew up in the saddle. From a very early age until I got married, I helped my father herd and check cows. To begin with I rode Midge, our Shetland pony, and later Roxie and Rosie, our saddlehorses.

Coincidentally, they were all black and white pinto mares. In this second story I want to tell you about one of the scariest times that I ever had with horses.

Growing up, my sister Myrna and my brother Delbert spent a lot of time going back and forth to visit the Couch kids, usually on horseback. It was 3½ miles to their house by the road but we could save a lot of distance by going cross country through our pasture and coming out at the Amos school. I can’t ever remember having a gate that we could go through.

But my dad had a system where he replaced the staples holding the barbed wire. Now listen carefully because you might just use it someday. He turned two staples horizontal to the post and nailed them about ¾ of an inch apart. He added this plan lower on the post two times where the barbed ran through them. To keep the wire in place he took another staple and dropped it into the space two staples made in front of the wire. At the bottom of the post was a spike nail.

So, when we wanted to get through the fence and onto visit Couch’s, we used this plan. We knew exactly where the two posts were. We would take the staples out in three places on each of the two posts and tuck the wire under the spike nail. If there were cows in that pasture, we made sure to undo the wire from the spike nails at the bottom of the posts and secure the wires where they should be.

Carefully we lead our horses across the downed fence. Easy? Usually very easy … but not always.

One summer day, my brother Delbert, a friend of his from the Air Base who was staying with us and I decided to ride horses over to the Couch place. Del rode Roxie and I rode Rosie, our black and white pinto mares. Dell’s friend was on Alice, a bay mare. Roxie and Rosie were grade mares but Alice was registered. “Sweet Alice” was her official name. My dad or sister usually rode her. All of them were great saddle horses.

We came to the wire let down, jumped off and began moving the barbed wires and tucking them under the spike nails just like we had been taught and done many times. I went first with Rosie. No problem.

Next came Del’s friend leading Alice. From some reason, Alice was spooked about half way over. She pulled back and in doing so caught the hock of her left hoof in the barbed wire. She was frightened and pulled back. We didn’t now know what to do! The more we tried to slap her rear end and lead her forward the more she pulled back. We knew that if we didn’t do something … and do it fast … Alice’s hoof would be cut off! We tried and tried and tried. Nothing worked.

It was too far home to ride and get fence pliers to cut the wires. We were on a section line with just a trail that was seldom used by anyone. We were in a coulee and couldn’t be seen from the main road. In desperation I cried, “What are we going to do?” My brother yelled back, “ I don’t know! Pray!!!”

Well, dear grandchildren, “Pray” I did. “God, we need your help. Please God, please God, please help us!”

I heard something in the distance. Then it got a bit louder. Something, a vehicle, was coming. It was getting louder. Then just over the brim of coulee we saw a small tractor coming. On it were two Hutterite young men from the Hilldale Colony to the east.

Even now, I’ve never known anyone from Hilldale to travel that section line and very few neighbors, as well. But they were there and saw immediately our need. Alice continued to pull back with the wire cutting into the hock of her hoof. Their tractor came to a halt. One fellow jumped off, grabbed their fence fliers and came our way. He reached down trying not to spook Alice anymore than needed. He kneeled down and cut first one wire and then the other two. Alice was free!

We didn’t go onto Couch’s that day. Thanking the two fellows, we walked Alice gingerly home. The three of us took turns riding Roxie and Rosie and leading Alice. The good news is that Alice’s hoof healed and she went on to have many days of working cattle and letting kids ride her.

But the great news is that God heard my prayer and He answered it with two unexpected helpers. I don’t know what we would have done that day without God’s help in sending the two young men!

Dear grandchildren, over the years, I’ve been blessed to have many, many answers to prayer. My understanding and experience is that with faith, we do everything we can possibly do and then we trust God to do the rest. I believe that God answers every prayer we utter. He answers them, “Yes,” “No,” or “Wait a while.” The “Yes” answers are great, the “No” answers we accept. The “Wait a while” are the hardest. They take Faith.

No one! No one will ever convince me that those two young men just happened along that section line so many years ago. I asked for help and God sent them.

I’m so glad that each of you knows and loves God. You make this grandmother very proud! Trust Him. He hears and answers prayers.

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; knock, and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.” Matthew 7: 7 & 8

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Ila McClenahan is a retired chaplain and activity director, living in the Amos area north of Havre. She spends her time writing, speaking at various events and trying very hard to be a good grandmother to her 12 grandchildren.