The girl walks slowly into the tack room, barely holding back tears. Her eyes go automatically to Scooby's saddle; a saddle that will probably sit there gathering dust for a few months before her riding instructor finally moves it into her house. It seems impossible that five days earlier that saddle's owner had stood in the stall just twenty feet away.
The door opens, she turns around. A woman stands there looking at her, and the woman does not have to say anything because the crease in her forehead and the wrinkles around her eyes say more than any words ever could. She steps forward, puts her arms around the girl, pats her back gently. The tears that had been gathering in the girl's eyes roll down her face. When she finally stop crying, the woman turns and leaves, giving her a few more minutes alone.
Whenever I remember that moment, I see it as if through the tack room window. That girl in there could not possibly be me-- the girl who always has something to say, who always has something she needs to hear. But then, this is different. This is the only place I know where people can communicate without saying words, understand one another without ever meeting, drawn together by a love for horses. Perhaps it is the very nature of communicating with horses that makes this community so special. All I know is that here, we may sometimes use words, but we never truly need them.
It's just under the word limit. I'm not sure if it fulfills the requirements for the essay though.
(Here's the question for anyone who doesn't know: Imagine looking through a window at any environment that is particularly significant to you. Reflect on the scene, paying close attention to the relation between what you are seeing and why it is meaningful to you. Please limit your statement to 300 words.)
Any advice is welcome!
The door opens, she turns around. A woman stands there looking at her, and the woman does not have to say anything because the crease in her forehead and the wrinkles around her eyes say more than any words ever could. She steps forward, puts her arms around the girl, pats her back gently. The tears that had been gathering in the girl's eyes roll down her face. When she finally stop crying, the woman turns and leaves, giving her a few more minutes alone.
Whenever I remember that moment, I see it as if through the tack room window. That girl in there could not possibly be me-- the girl who always has something to say, who always has something she needs to hear. But then, this is different. This is the only place I know where people can communicate without saying words, understand one another without ever meeting, drawn together by a love for horses. Perhaps it is the very nature of communicating with horses that makes this community so special. All I know is that here, we may sometimes use words, but we never truly need them.
It's just under the word limit. I'm not sure if it fulfills the requirements for the essay though.
(Here's the question for anyone who doesn't know: Imagine looking through a window at any environment that is particularly significant to you. Reflect on the scene, paying close attention to the relation between what you are seeing and why it is meaningful to you. Please limit your statement to 300 words.)
Any advice is welcome!
