Reminisce Extra – July 2018

34 REMINISCE.COM * JULY 2018

PASSING ALONG her

love of horses, Jill

Mansor now teaches

riding and runs equine

therapy classes at her

farm in New Jersey.

From Secret Rider

to Horse Whisperer

by Jill Mansor• Pilesgrove, NJ

DAD ASKED HIS QUESTION
as casually as possible. “Jill, do

you want to go to the market?”
It was hard for me to contain

my excitement because I knew
what he really meant. He was

speaking to me in our code;
a trip to the “market” translated

as “ride a pony.”
Dad and I had invented the

code so my mother wouldn’t

worry. As a nurse at one of the

largest children’s hospitals in the

country, Mom had seen so many

young patients hurt in riding

accidents that we knew she’d

never agree to her daughter

getting on a horse, let alone

taking riding lessons.

But my dad knew that riding

a horse was all I lived for, and

he encouraged it in tiny ways.

On car drives, he’d pull over and

lure horses in pasture to the

fence with a carrot so I could pet

their soft noses. I dreamed of

someday owning my own horse.

We lived only about 11⁄2 miles

from a broken-down farm that

rented horses and ponies for

one-hour rides. That first visit,

they brought out a little golden

pony for me. The poor thing

was old and sway-backed, with

patches of mud on his body and

brambles in his tail, but to me,

he was a majestic steed.

For one stolen hour, I could

ride off into the sunset astride

a pony. It was all the therapy

I needed. That night I went to

bed full of anticipation for our

next trip to the “market.”

Dad and I went on many more

shopping adventures, never

coming home with groceries—

and Mom never asked about

them. Perhaps she knew all along

where we really were.

The bond I shared with the

horses on those rides shaped my

life. I am now a certified riding

instructor and own a horse farm,

where I provide equine therapy

for people with autism.

When I bought my first horse,

Raise Your Dreams, it was at one

of the lowest points in my life.

Yet I found he needed me as

much as I needed him. Today, my

horses lift my students’ spirits as

my first horse lifted mine. That’s

why I named my farm after him.

Our Heroes