A Dead Horse

 

I enjoyed staying overnight with my cousin, Gene.  He was nine days older than me, and I had fun at his house.  Gene had interesting neighbors.  Georgie was our age and was the oldest of many children. Georgie’s dad, Mr. S. worked a job and farmed on the side.  But he wasn’t very good at farming because he didn’t put very much time into it.  His animals were always sickly, and his fields were always overgrown.  One cold winter day, my mom dropped me off to spend the day with Gene.  He was excited to tell me that Mr. S.’s horse had died the night before.  Big excitement for ten-year-old boys.  It was in the middle of winter and the carcass had frozen to the ground down the hill from the barn.  A man with a truck had showed up that morning to haul away the horse.  Gene told me that it was a “meat wagon” and that they boiled the animals down to make glue.  I wasn’t too sure about the truth of the statement, but it was good discussion for ten-year-olds.  We watched as the man wrapped a chain around the frozen horse’s back hooves, popped the carcass lose from the frozen ground, and winched the body up the hill and onto the flat-bed truck.  It was an exciting event for boys to see.  Anytime I saw death, whether it was a horse or a dog or a bird, it gave me pause to think of the meaning of life as well.  I felt strangely sorry for the horse, but the horse wasn’t suffering any more.  It was an uncomfortable mixture of sorrow and relief.  Hey, horses die, and they’re just gone, but when people die, it’s different.  Their body is buried, but they have a soul that lives on for eternity.  And that’s a long, long time.  Hey, when your time comes to die, will you be ready to meet your Maker?  The writer of the book of Hebrews said in Hebrews 9:27, “And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment.”  I must warn you to make your preparations before your time comes.  Hey, message me if you would like to talk about it.