"Ever since I was about 12, there was this horse that was 'mine.' I rode him every single day. I competed with him every single weekend during the summer. He pulled me out of a deep depression that could have turned out very bad. He was part of my family since I was five. But he wasn't mine. My dad's name was on his registration papers.
My dad and I had a huge falling-out when I was 20. Just before Christmas we kind of, sort of reconciled, and I went home for Christmas. Christmas morning, we were all sitting around the tree, and my dad came out of his bedroom with an envelope in his hand with my name on it. My heart skipped a beat, but I didn't allow my mind to go there. He put it under the tree, and after a while I opened it.
It was Hank's registration papers, with my dad's signature on the seller's line and my name on the buyer's line.
There are very few moments that could compare to that moment. There are no Christmas gifts that could ever compare." ——anna.