I wrote this one a few years ago, for my middle son, Robin. When he was about 3, he started to say that when he grew up, he was going to be a horsey who played baseball. Now, I don’t like to squash a dream or silence an imagination. At the same time, I wasn’t sure what I thought about a child having such an unrealistic goal. So I told Robby, “Honey, that sounds like a lot of fun, but human children don’t normally grow up to become horses.” Robby response? A beautiful smile and the words, “But, Mommy. Anything is possible with Jesus.”
Now how could I say anything against that? Instead of trying, I wrote this little story for him. He loved it. Hope you do, too.
HORSES DO PLAY BASEBALL
Ben Robins was a hoarse. He was a hoarse with a dream. A dream to play baseball.
Ben loved baseball. His favorite team was the Tazewell Tigers. He has a poster of his favorite player, Cubby Higgins, hanging in his bedroom.
“Someday I will play like Cubby,” Ben said.
His sister laughed at him. “You won’t be like Cubby,” she said. “You are a horse. Horses don’t play baseball.”
At school, a new baseball team was looking for players. Ben and his best friend, Beary Andrus, signed up to try out.
“Wouldn’t you like to play soccer instead?” coach asked him.
“No,” Ben said. “I want to play baseball.
“You don’t even have hands,” Coach said. “Horses don’t play baseball. You should go to the soccer field.
Ben went to the soccer field. His strong legs helped him to kick the ball far. He found that he was very good at the game. Still, he wanted to play baseball.
One day, Ben’s dad took him and Beary to a Tazewell Tigers game. Ben was very excited. They went early to watch batting practice. Ben looked on as Cubby Higgins hit a ball out of the park.
“Wow,” Beary said.
“Yeah,” Ben said. “I wish I could do that.”
“Someday you will,” Daddy said.
“No,” Ben said sadly. “I can’t play baseball.”
“Why not?” Beary asked.
“I’m a hoarse,” Ben said. “And horses don’t play baseball”
“They do if they want to,” Daddy said.
Daddy bought Ben a baseball glove. When they got home, Ben and Beary went outside to practice. Beary helped Ben put the glove on. Ben’s hooves did make it tricky, but they got it on. The first time Beary tossed the ball, Ben missed.
“Try again,” Beary said.
Ben tried.
And tried.
And tired.
And finally he yelled, “I caught it!!”
“Great,” Beary said. “Now try throwing the ball.”
Ben knew how to kick a soccer ball, but a baseball could not be kicked. His hooves made throwing hard.
But Ben tried.
And he tried.
And he tried.
And finally Beary yelled, “Great throw!”
Ben went back to the school baseball field. He showed coach how he could catch and throw.
Baseball is more than just catching and throwing,” Coach said. “You have to bat, too. Those hooves will never hold a bat. You are a hoarse, Ben, and horses can’t play baseball.”
“This hoarse can,” Ben said. “You’ll see.”
Beary brought his bat over to Bes’s house. “Swinging the bat is easy,” he said. He showed Ben the best way to hold a bat.
Ben picked up the bat and tried to hold it like Beary.
Ben tired.
And tried.
And tried.
And finally, he yelled, “I can’t do this!”
“Yes you can,” Beary said. “Don’t give up just because it is hard.”
“My hooves get in the way,” Ben said. “I can’t hold the bat like you can because I don’t have paws.”
“Then don’t use your hooves,” Beary said. “Use what you have.”
Ben smiled. Suddenly, he knew just what to do.
Ben went to the baseball field again.
“I told you,” coach said, “Horses don’t have hands to hold a bat. Horses can’t play baseball.”
“I don’t need hands,” Ben said. “But I can play baseball.
Ben picked up a bat. Beary pitched a ball to his friend. Ben held the bat with his teeth, while he swung it.
He hit the ball, and it flew up, up, up, and passed the fence.
“Wow,” Coach said. “What a hit! I guess horses can play baseball.”
I took a box of graham crackers and put one sleeve of them into my food processor. Once they were grounded into fine crumbs, I mixed them with on melted butter stick. I patted the mixture into the bottom of a round cake pan. It went into the oven at 375 degrees. When it came out, I immediately topped it with one bag of milk chocolate chips. It went back in the oven for two minutes. When it came out, the pie didn’t look any different. The regular chocolate chips were melted, and I used a spoon to evenly spread the chocolate.
