22 January, 2012

Just a warm little miracle on a really cold Sunday morning...

"Fairy tales can come true, they can happen to you, when you're young at heart..."-from the song Young at Heart, written by Johnny Richards and Carolyn Leigh
This is Haliluyah MH, an El Halimaar son out of RDM Maar Hala,  as photographed by the very talented, Christine Emmert. When I think of Haliluyah, I think of his miraculous beginning,
“Desperate to produce another foal or two, Maar Hala was left with an equine reproduction specialist in Santa Ynez, CA. The vet was given carte blanche to ‘do whatever it takes to get her pregnant.’ By this time, Maar Hala was 21 years old but was in excellent health. At the end of the season, she was not pregnant so the decision was made to bring her home, reassess in the spring, and then decide if her reproductive career was over. At home she was pampered and treated like the queen that she was, but she was not teased and her cycles were not tracked. In April of 1995 the vet returned to examine Maar Hala to determine if it would be worth our while to try again. Upon examination, the vet told my dad to sit down because Maar Hala was pregnant. Dad exclaimed, ‘Hallelujah!’ and we had the name of Maar Hala’s next and last foal, Haliluyah MH.” -Jody Cruz, in his article, RDM Maar Hala, appearing in the September 2009 issue of The Australian Arabian Horse News
Who said miracles don't happen anymore? This particular one, warms my heart and soul.

EnJOY,
Ralph

18 January, 2012

He Was a Goosebump Horse

That's what my friend, Anne-Louise Toner said about Asfour, an Egyptian Arabian stallion bred by Dr. Hans Joachim Nagel and purchased by Marion Richmond in 1985. Asfour was a son of Malik, a Hadban Enzahi son out of Malikah, who traced in tail female to Halima. Asfour's dam is the legendary queen of Katharinenhof, Hanan. It had been more than a few years and thousands of miles since Anne-Louise last saw Asfour at Simeon Stud. Ahhh, Simeon, the magical place where a mighty mare by the name of 27 Ibn Galal V once lived. This mare had made a profound impression upon Anne-Louise, changing the way she looked at all horses forever..  
"I was about 12, and Australia was holding its first-ever National Show.  I already knew I loved Arabian horses, so I told my Mum (who is a great mother) how important it was that I go see the horses at this show.  Suddenly, there was this PRESENCE in the ring.  Galal was a big bodied mare -I think a bit like Sonbolah, in some ways as well as color - and she curled her tail over back and snorted, and the energy about her was humming, palpable, so intense as she stood still - before curling up like a bow about to let loose an arrow, all this incredible, controlled power, and just elevated off the ground in the most amazing, huge, powerful, elegant trot across that arena.  She looked at (well, at the time I said she looked right at me but remember I was 12 and had read "The Black Stallion") the people ringside and snorted at us, and she was SO different!  There was nothing hurried or rushed in her movement, it was strong and deliberate and purposeful but light and effortless as a feather." 
When Anne-Louise last saw Asfour, he was barely out of colt-hood and yet, a rising star for Marion. He would ultimately exert a significant influence not only in Australia but throughout the world, in every place where the straight Egyptian Arabian is revered and celebrated.  Anne-Louise has had the good fortune to meet many great Egyptian horses since then, so, she wondered how Asfour would compare to some of the wonderful horses that she had met. "Would Asfour be just another good horse?" she wondered.
"He was in his box, tied to the back wall, and they had the top door closed as it was cold and rainy.  They opened the top door, and out of the darkness of the back of the stall, Asfour turned his head, just casually, to look at us.  It was like slow motion, a flea-bitten, masculine, dry, exotic face as it slowly turned, and then these two HUGE BLACK eyes in that white face blinked at me.  I had chills running up and down my back and down my arms and my knees were wobbly.  He hit you like a physical force, from 14 feet away.  We wandered in and patted him and I tried to be appropriately cool while I admired him."

Asfour was every bit extraordinary as Anne-Louise had remembered him to be. He was beautiful and one of the most physically stunning horses she had seen in a long time. He took your breath away. Asfour was a flesh and bone incarnation  of the horse that gallops in a person's imagination, inspiring and encouraging a heart and soul to keep stretching and reaching for the stars, even when everything you have been told, reminds you that this type of horse is just not possible in the real world.

Oh, yeah?

 you ask of the naysayers and then you say confidently, "well, you haven't met a horse named Asfour."
"Not to take away from other, beautiful horses who make you happy just by seeing them, but those horses, for me, were completely different. Not perfect, beyond perfect to the point where the imperfections are irrelevant. Maybe some horses are just destined to be immortal, beyond the silly confines of mere human bureaucrats and their petty criticisms."
EnJOY,
Ralph

PS this feature is lovingly dedicated to *Simeon Sachi, an Asfour son owned by Anne-Louise Toner of Al Atiq Arabians in Germantown, Maryland.

05 January, 2012

We Three Kings...

"We three kings of Orient are
Bearing gifts we traverse afar
Field and fountain, moor and mountain
Following yonder star..."-from the lyrics of the song, We Three Kings, written by Rev. John Henry Hopkins
Melchior cantered into the darkness, away from his camp, where his friends lay sleeping. It was early morning and by all appearances, still night. The cool morning air rushed past his face and the sound of the wind filled his ears, blocking all other sounds. He needed to be alone, to meditate and to pray. So, he drove his horse farther and faster into the desert. His mind was troubled and he felt better, comforted even, out in the wilderness, under the night sky, with nothing between him and God. His prayers felt stronger out here and more powerful, without any of the interruptions and obstacles that would weaken them, as they made their way to God's ears. So much had happened, since leaving his home, to follow the path of the star. He would return to Persia, not only a changed man spiritually but committed to living a new life, which reflected the joy that he had discovered in Bethlehem. Prior to starting his journey, he had complained that life as he knew it, had become stale, tedious and well, tiring. He wanted to electrify his life and in Bethlehem, he found the spark that now ignited the raging bonfire in his heart, soul and mind. He kept thinking of His eyes. No matter how hard he tried to forget, he could not erase the image of the little child's eyes. As he reached the top of the hill's rise, he brought his mare, Magilia to a stop. Unconsciously, he rubbed her affectionately on her neck, twirling the fine, silky mane hairs around his fingers. Melchior loved his mare and he was grateful for her presence on this dark morning. Magilia was exquisite. Her beauty was outstanding and throughout this journey, Melchior had been on edge, as word of the mare's unrivaled beauty started to spread ahead of the caravan's path. He expected a raid at any moment, by one of the horse-breeding desert tribes and Magilia would be the highly coveted and sought after prize. While making ready, Melchior had been undecided as to whether he would risk Magilia's safety on this journey and lose her forever. He couldn't bear the thought of life without her but he also couldn't bear a separation for any extended period of time. Finally, he decided that he must bring her. This was no ordinary trip and Melchior needed to depend on someone like Magilia. Melchior had known her dam, who was revered for her exquisite beauty and also, for her red hot speed.  Many successful race horses were produced from this family of horses. Melchior had bargained with Magilia's breeder, a Bedouin Shaikh, who was like a brother to him. On a long ago night, the Shaikh had  been bitten by a sand viper and Melchior, with his powerful understanding of alchemy, had saved the Shaikh from the jaws of death. Their relationship had grown stronger since then. The Shaikh had bred Magilia to be an important part of his stud and had planned to keep her but finally, Melchior's offer of one hundred and fifty camels, a promising stud colt, fifty donkeys, two hundred and fifty ewes, three renowned sight hounds and two hundred and fifty sacks of  jasmine rice proved too irresistible for the Shaikh. He thought of this, all the while he stood in the same spot, twirling Magilia's mane round and round his finger. Anything to distract him from all the thoughts which filled his mind and his heart. From out of nowhere, a woman's voice whispered into his ears. "Why do you doubt all that you have seen?" she asked and continued, "He is whom the prophecy has foretold." He placed his hand on Magilia's neck and turned in the saddle to face the woman but no one was there. He looked to his left and to his right but no one was there.  "Who is out there? Who has just spoken?" he asked. "show yourself!"

All was silent. 

And then, from nowhere, the voice returned to say, "Melchior, it is I, your horse, Magilia, who speaks with you."

MAGILIA?????

"Melchior, I have been your companion on this journey to follow the star which your people have been studying for an awful long time. You know the prophecy well and have spent your life, studying and preparing for the moment that the star would reveal the glory of God to you. Yet, you have become trapped by the 'science of the study' and somehow, the simple message has become lost for you, despite witnessing His glory. Why? He is who He said He is. You have been blessed with an opportunity to see the glory first hand. Embrace it, as soon, the glory of God will become a very important part of who you are."

Melchior was stunned. He looked at Magilia. His beautiful mare, so exquisite in her beauty was not only speaking to him but she spoke with a wisdom one would never expect from a horse. She turned her head to the left, to face Melchior, aware of the thought in his mind. He couldn't think, he couldn't speak, he couldn't fathom what was happening to him now. All Melchior could do, in this moment, was to pray...in thanksgiving.

God had blessed him, profoundly.  

And the gift was underscored in Magilia! He thought for a long time. He thought of the visit with the child and also, with His Mother, who appeared initially concerned and skeptical over the Magi visit. "Men from the east? Magi? Who has sent you and what do you want with my son?" she demanded of them. She was sure that King Herod was behind all of this and had sent his henchmen to hurt her son, possibly even kill Him. Melchior assured her that his group, his caravan, meant her son no harm. He explained the star prophecy and of their desire to meet and worship the little King, whose coming had been foretold for ages in his country. Once again, he thought of the child and of his private visit with Him. And he thought of the miracle that he personally witnessed. Melchior couldn't understand how it was possible that the baby could change his physical appearance into that of a middle-aged man, right before his eyes. He also detected a bit of sadness which resided deeply in His eyes. As if there was a great tragedy that only the Child knew about. He was lost in his thoughts and had not noticed the growing brightness which illuminated  the spot where he stood. Suddenly, a thousand voices broke out in song, with voices so beautiful, so melodious, like nothing he had ever heard before. Melchior was startled. He suddenly found himself looking deeply into the eyes of the child and his mind heard the words that the child said to him, "do not be troubled Melchior, for everything is as you have seen and heard, all for the glory of God. Your faith will now direct you, to where you need to go. Prepare the way for my coming. Go now and tell others all that you have seen and spread my glory far and wide, bringing joy to all who will listen." Melchior cried deeply with a joy so enormous, that he felt he would explode. With a new perspective, he thought of all that he experienced over the last few days and understood the message that God was sending to him. We are all connected to each other, through the glorious love of God. And, personally, it was so simple to understand that Melchior almost had missed the message. For that, he thanked Magilia, who was as beautiful inside, as she was on the outside. Yes, he would return to Persia a changed man, to testify to the glory of God's love, all for the love of a horse.

EnJOY,
Ralph

I must give credit to Ann Hatchett-Sprague for her most wonderful painting, Nejd Lady. I love it and when I first saw this beautiful Nejdi, I couldn't think of a more perfect "Magi-lia."