Hello to you wherever you’re reading this short story for kids.

I think you’ll enjoy this if you like horses and magic.

Why not grab a little snack and settle back for a bit as you read:

How to Make a River Dance

“But I want to make River dance again,” Cecilia said, watching as her favorite horse plodded along the edge of his corral. “Look at how sad he is.”

“I know. Of course, I know,” said the trainer. “But now that he’s only got vision in one eye, he isn’t show quality.” The trainer shook her head. “Come away from the fence. We’ll put you on another horse.”

Cecilia clung to the fence rails until the trainer called her again. Then she heaved a great sigh to make sure everyone knew how mad she was. But there was no one else around to hear, except for River. And, of course, he already knew.

“How about Jerry?” the trainer asked, walking toward a cream-colored quarter horse in a stall. “You’ve liked him.”

Cecilia shook her head.

“Motley?” the trainer asked.

Cecilia shook her head again and crossed her arms. If she couldn’t ride River, she wasn’t going to make this easy for the trainer. “I’m eleven. I should be able to ride who I want.”

“Eleven? That’s nothing. I have riding boots older than that. How about Bo?”

“He’s like a hundred and ninety years old!”

“Motley it is then.” The trainer headed toward a multi-colored mare in another stall.

Secretly, Cecilia liked Motley, but she wasn’t about to tell the trainer that. In the training arena and once atop the horse, Cecilia could see River in the corral. She felt like a traitor. She slunked down so he wouldn’t see her. As if he needed to see her to know exactly where she was.

For the rest of the lesson, the trainer kept calling her out for her bad posture—a big no-no when you’re sitting on a thousand pounds of animal. But Cecilia didn’t care. Her mind was busy thumbing through possibilities and plans. She had to ride River at the show next month. She had promised him. And Cecilia never ever reneged on a promise.

What difference did it make if he had just one eye?

Cecilia had been riding long enough, since she was eight, and most of those years had been atop River. Until the infection that reached in and took away the sight in his left eye. But she knew she could handle River, and not just handle him, but make him dance. Like she said.

“Your grandmother’s here, Cecilia. Show her what you can do.”

Cecilia waved and shouted, “Hi Momo. Watch me!” She straightened up and put Motley through some beginning paces–the four-beat walk, the two-beat trot, the three-beat canter. Then she put Motley into a right half-pass because it felt fancy and, she knew, looked pretty fancy as well.

But Motley tripped and the trainer shouted, “Posture!”

So Cecilia brought the horse to the fence and dismounted.

“So bee-you-tee-ful, min skatt,” said Momo.

Cecilia flopped into the backseat of the car and sighed.

But the trainer came to the car window to talk to Momo right then, so she probably didn’t hear her. Cecilia waited until she had Momo’s full attention.

“Did you have fun, Cecilia?” Momo asked.

Cecilia took a deep breath and simultaneously sighed and banged her head against the back of her seat. “No.” Then she told her grandmother all about her promise to River and how unfair it was that she couldn’t ride him in the show. “I made a promise, Momo. I have to ride him.”

Momo turned in her seat to face Cecilia.

“What?” Cecilia asked, fluffing up the blond curls that the riding helmet had squashed.

Momo’s eyes had a familiar twinkle. “You know, Cecilia, we Norwegians are very good at things.”

Cecilia didn’t know which of them Momo might be talking about. “What does that mean?”

“Let’s have a snack and go see River.”

As they got out of the car again, Momo gave Cecilia a piece of Sunnmorsbrod, a dark soft bread that she made just for her. It was slathered in strawberry jam.

Cecilia raced ahead and had already jumped up on the fence and was rubbing River’s velvety ears by the time Momo reached them. River was licking the jam off Cecilia’s other hand.

“Such a sweet boy,” said Momo. “Why is he here by himself?”

“Because our trainer says that no one has time to exercise him right now because of the show coming up. Everyone’s practicing on,” here Cecilia used her fingers to make air quotes, “better horses.” She rolled her eyes. “If she’d just let me ride River, it would solve all the problems.”

“Do you think so?” Momo was staring at River and furrowed her brow. Then she reached into her bag, and when she pulled out her hand it was curled into a fist. “Here, Cecilia. Take this and sprinkle it over River’s head.”

Cecilia held out her hand and Momo opened her fist, dropping—dropping nothing.

“There’s nothing here!” Cecilia brushed her hands together.

“Well, no, now there isn’t. You’ve just brushed it onto the dirt.” Momo toed the dirt with her sneaker as if trying to find something.

Momo was often like this. Trying to be magical. Trying to summon up the fairy world. Trying to make something out of nothing. Cecilia loved that about her grandmother. But today, right now, with River, she needed a little more than Norwegian magic dust. She glanced at the dirt. Not even a sparkle. No. It was all silly nonsense.

“Come, Cecilia. We’ll try again tomorrow. And I will speak to your trainer about River.”

“You’ll just be wasting your time. Becky won’t let me ride him. She says River’s not show quality anymore.” Cecilia resumed rubbing the horse’s ears and cheek and down his neck to his withers.

“Wasting my time?” said Momo. “I don’t think so. We Norwegians have the pixies on our side. We don’t waste our time. I will clear everything up with your trainer.” Momo put her arm around Cecilia’s waist. “And when I give you something, don’t brush it off.”

Cecilia turned to face her grandmother, her back to River. Holding on to the fence awkwardly, she bent over and kissed the top of her grandmother’s head. “Thank you, Momo.”

At that moment, River took the opportunity to stick his great nose through the fence and nudged Cecilia enough to make her lose her balance. She toppled off…right onto Momo. Momo stumbled backward but managed to stay on her sneaker-clad feet.

“Oh, no!” Cecilia said. “Are you OK? I could have made you fall.”

“You could have. You can’t turn your back on a horse, Cecilia. Or magic, for that matter. Let’s go.” Momo marched away, leaving Cecilia to say goodbye to River.

“I’ll be back tomorrow. Get ready to ride, I guess.” Cecilia kissed River on the creamy white spot on his forehead. “Thank you for the bread, Momo,” she said as she buckled herself into the backseat.

Momo nodded and started the car, which shook and rattled.

Cecilia figured if there was such a thing as magic fairy dust, it must be what was holding this car together. Maybe there was such a thing.

Driving slowly over the ruts in the road, Momo didn’t say her usual, “Bump…bump…bump.”

“Are you mad at me, Momo?” That would be a first.

Momo shook her head. “No. I’m not mad. But don’t turn your back on things. That includes horses and magic. My mormar shared some Norwegian magic secrets with me and her mormar before that. Now, I am offering it to you, but you just brush it to the dirt.”

Norwegian secrets? Cecilia rolled her eyes again and looked out the window at the fields of grass, all green now because of the rain. Soon, though, they would be golden and parched. She wondered if she would have made River dance again by then. Of course, she didn’t have that long before the horse show. She only had until the beginning of next month. What was Momo thinking about? And, seriously, there was nothing on Momo’s hand, certainly not magic dust. Cecilia sighed.

“Stop sighing like that,” said Momo. “You sound like the world is against you.”

“It is.” Cecilia pouted. “All I want to do is ride River.”

“Don’t exaggerate. It’s not the world that’s against you. The world doesn’t even know River. And you don’t just want to ride River, you want to make him dance. Sit up, min skatt.”

Cecilia could see Momo’s eyes in the rearview mirror looking at her.

Momo dropped Cecilia off at her house and didn’t even come inside. “Say hi to your mother and sister,” she said. “I’ll get you after school tomorrow, and I’ll take you to your lesson myself.

Cecilia had never known her Momo to be so—so un-Momo-like. All this because she didn’t take some invisible nothing from Momo’s hand? Silly. But silly as it might have been, it bothered Cecilia all night and into the next day, like having a loose hair stuck to her face that kept itching her nose. If Momo had some Norwegian secret magic to pass down to Cecilia, then who was she to argue?

Momo was waiting for her in her old red car that smelled of bread and old socks and horses.

Cecilia wasn’t sure what sort of greeting she’d receive this afternoon. “Hello?” she said warily, as she got into the back and buckled the seatbelt. “Thank you for getting me today, Momo.”

Momo nodded. “Let’s go, min skatt. You have a horse to dance.”

At the ranch, Cecilia went straight to River without even checking in with Becky.

Momo told her she’d take care of the trainer for now.

River was back in the corral and ran up to the fence when Cecilia called his name. She offered him a sugar cube that Momo had given her and he nibbled it off her palm with his soft whiskery lips. “I’m going to saddle you up, and we’ll go for a ride. I’ll be right back.”

The saddles were in the tackroom closest to the training arena. Cecilia could see Momo and Becky talking, Becky’s hands flapping up and down like she was trying to fly, and Momo standing calmly with her hands behind her back. Cecilia picked up her saddle and saddle blanket, as well as her bucket with all its paraphernalia. She glanced at her Momo and Becky again as she trotted back to River. She knew Momo would convince Becky to let her ride River. Momo was magic like that.

Though the saddle weighed just a bit more than ten pounds, with all its bits and pieces hanging down, it was a cumbersome load. Cecilia rested it over the fence and began the meditative process of grooming, ending with cleaning River’s hooves. She then took the saddle, swung it one, two, three times and heaved it onto River’s back.

“Okay, my dear,” said Momo coming to the corral. “Take this.”

Just like yesterday, Momo reached into her bag and brought her hand out in a fist.

Cecilia held her hands open like a cup, and Momo shook the “magic” from her hands into Cecilia’s.

Cecilia looked at her empty hands. Then she stood in front of River, made a wish, and blew the magic onto his face. “Here we go.” She put her foot into the stirrup and pulled herself gracefully onto the saddle, settling her other foot in the stirrup. She had ridden River many times, but never tired of him. He was her magic. Some horses are just like that.

River, a quarter horse who had seen more shows in his life than most any other horse at the ranch, didn’t budge until Cecilia was properly seated. At her command, he walked slowly around the arena several times, then he picked up his pace, trotting around the arena.

“Whoa,” Cecilia said.

River stopped immediately.

“Let’s go the other way.” Cecilia tapped his belly lightly with the inside of her leg, and the pair began to walk in the opposite direction.

River’s blind eye was on the fence side now and they drifted toward the center of the arena.

Cecilia gently corrected him. “Let’s see if you remember how to dance,” she said.

(to be continued)

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