It was dark in the barn at the end of the day. Beside his prod dam a newborn foal lay. The mare she stood and bowed down her head, the foal tried to listen to the words that she said. Her words were too soft for his small ears to hear, He struggled to his feet and she drew him near. "Mama, I am not sleepy, I want to have fun. I want to run with the others and lay in the sun." "Hush, little one, this is the time that we pray, for those who suffer at the end of the day."
"Dear Lord, we are thankful for all we receive, the world's not as hard a place as we once believed. No longer must we hunger, shiver or thirst, our needs are now met, our ills are now nursed. But there are too many horses, unfortunate still, who survive every day, through force of sheer will. They never are petted, pampered or brushed, Have never had a human in which they could trust. No blankets, no turnouts, no time just for play, and Lord how they suffer at the end of the day."
"No child to whisper soft words in their ear, no owner that comforts when they know fear. No soft hands to pet them on neck and on back, good food and warm shelters not all that they lack. They get no attention when they are not well, locked in their stalls filled with filth, they already know Hell. Often beaten and starved they hang down their head, to wait sweet release that only comes when they're dead. They get no soft bedding on which to lay, little food and no love at the end of the day."
The foal's eyes they widened with fear and concern. The mare nuzzled him gently and licked him in tiun. "My son, do not worry, you'll never know hunger. You're days will be secure and filled up with wonder. Not long ago I was one of those suffering, deeply in pain, no kindness, no soft words, no shelter from rain. Before you were born our rescuers arrived, and I knew when
you came that you'd surely thrive. Sleep now, my child, our Angels are near," softly she
neighed, "and know we truly are thankful at the end of the day!"
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