My parents owned a riding school named Sweetbrier and when I was a little girl all I dreamed about was becoming a champion rider. The little obstacle standing in my way was that I was born with a handicap which affects walking so everything seemed to take forever to learn. One thing that was always emphasized in our family was “The Humphrys don’t give up.” After six years I mastered the basics-walking, trotting and cantering. The next thing was jumping. My dad was my teacher and he wasn’t in favor of it, but he finally relented when I reminded him that he always told me I could do anything anyone else could, but certain things would take a little longer. Besides, he taught two blind people to ride. One of them even learned to jump so I managed to remind him about that.
I hadn’t slept all night just thinking of the big day-my first jump. Daddy was letting me jump Fair Lad, (Laddie for short) a very relaxed, reliable horse. Daddy set up the cross rail. I stared at it with eyes the size of saucers. It looks huge. It must be as big as Pikes Peak, I thought, with dismay. “Couldn’t you make it a little lower, daddy,” I pleaded. My hands were clammy and my heart thumping wildly.
“If it was any lower, there’d be nothing to jump,” daddy replied.
Laddie trotted toward the cross rails, while I expected something dramatic to happen, after all, it looked like a huge jump. Laddie had to lower his head to even notice it! But we managed to get to the other side together. “Daddy, I jumped, I jumped!” I shouted. Gee, this jumping thing is easier than I thought. We’ll be jumping in shows in no time at all. Of course, daddy was excited for me on this important event. It felt like we conquered Pikes Peak, but in reality, Laddie probably should have worn glasses to be able to see it. As I looked back on it later, I’ve probably seen ant hills that were bigger. But it was a small victory. It was the first of many triumphs in my riding career. It was another small testament that anything can be done if you persevere.
