Thirty years have passed, but I remember it as if it were yesterday, in 1986, we are at the Diamond T. Ranch, in Minnesota Zaneta is eleven years old, more or less. The value here lies in the premise, less important is the plot or the progression of the account! It bends the laws of nature and, apparently to me, orbits the paranormal; But it’s worth telling

It was on summer weekends that I took Zaneta places, and since this story is about Diamond T. Ranch, she was familiar with horseback riding, and we would huddle with a group of people and ride through the woods. along old horse trails, and here and there the guide would let us gallop a hill or two. Approximately twelve people per group. Zaneta was given a larger-than-normal horse this day, and a more stubborn horse than expected. And as we trotted along the many trails within the forest, everything was going well, me and my horse were behind Zaneta and his horse, then suddenly and abruptly the lead horse galloped down a slope, Zaneta’s horse He kicked and leaped, leaped into a gallop, and pushed his way forward to all the other horses, with such force that Zaneta flew from his saddle into the air a meter from the leather as to remove himself from the atmosphere of the land: the horse in a deep rage, leaping and kicking and galloping up this hill faster and stronger and Zaneta several times flying from his saddle, it was as if an angelic being was sitting behind her, leading her back firmly and securely and momentarily holding her in the saddle.

I was quite terrified, and had a hard time recovering, feeling like I was about to be thrown from the horse at any moment. He was in great pain and anguish, Zaneta was as if he had not even realized what was happening. At that time, there is nothing a parent can do for the child except pray; but I think the angel was in front of me.

Well the sun got hotter outside the forest, Zaneta grabbed the horse’s bridle with a firmer hue, and didn’t deviate at all on the count, so I happily sat in my saddle at ease as we continued on the trail. … undisturbed by the horses, and more so by the flies, and the many birds that fly from one side to the other, from the forest, the branches hit the horses’ faces, then they are cooled by the gentle breeze that descends up the hill to the ranch house, whereupon we neared the horse stables, and the corral, the caravan’s horses quickened their pace, knowing there was water and oats at hand.

I approached Zaneta, after we returned to the ranch house, I had a coke and a bite to eat: she looked at me a little surprised at my concern, as if there was no need.

Note: This story was started in 2009 and forgotten for lack of experience in putting it into words, now rewritten for this next book, and in the hope that it will suit the book as a whole. # 1101 / 7-23-2015 / Revised, 1-2016.