Chicken Soup for the Kid’s Soul Read Free Page B

help more. “Angel,” she sobbed, “please stay with Trixie so she won’t be lonely. I have Mom and Laddie, but Trixie will be all alone. She needs you.” With her small arms around Trixie’s neck, she reassured the pony, “It’ll be all right, Trixie. My angel will take care of you.”
    Her parents’ divorce, a new school, a different home and the loss of Trixie turned Kelly’s life upside down all at once. Her mother encouraged her to make friends.
    “Come on, Kelly, and ride with us,” two of her schoolmates urged as they sat on their bicycles in the driveway.
    Following the two girls down the road, Kelly felt the wind in her hair and the warmth of the sun on her face. She needed friends, she reminded herself, and pedaled faster to catch up.
    During the summer, Kelly and her friends rode their bicycles to the park and around the track at the school. With her strong legs, she could match any of them when they raced.
    After racing on the track one sunny day, Kelly pedaled home with her new friends. As she bounced along the bumpy, dusty road, the hard edge of the bike seat dug into her leg. She wished she were sitting in her smooth leather saddle on Trixie, gliding over the fresh green grass of the pasture.
    Suddenly, the front wheel of the bicycle swerved into a rut. She turned hard to the left to get it out, but it was too late. Hurtling over the handlebars, she bounced off the edge of the road and into a ditch. The girls hurried to her.
    “Her injuries are minor,” the doctor informed her mother after Kelly had limped home, “but you’d better keep her quiet for a couple of days.”
    Though sore and scratched, Kelly returned to her bicycle in a few days. One morning, she awoke with a numb feeling in her legs. Slowly, she slid her body to the edge of the bed; but as she attempted to stand, she collapsed on the floor.
    Puzzled by this development, the doctor examined her carefully.
    “Her injuries have healed, but there is some psychological trauma,” he said. “I’ve scheduled therapy, and stretching exercises should help.” Kelly went home in a wheelchair.
    As she sat on the porch, she hugged Laddie close and stared wistfully across the field. “Please, God, please bring Trixie and my angel back to me. I need them so.”
    One day a letter came from Kelly’s father:
Dear Kelly,
   Your aunt told me about your accident. I’m sorry to hear about it. I have made arrangements to have your pony delivered to you next week. She has been opening all the gates and letting my stock out of the pasture. I think she is looking for you. Maybe having her will help you feel better.
Love,
Dad
    In a few days a truck arrived, and Trixie was led down the ramp. Nuzzling Kelly’s neck and snorting at Laddie, the pony checked out her new home. Kelly petted Trixie’s head and neck as far as she could reach from her wheelchair, and kissed her on the nose. “Trixie, Trixie, I knew you would come. Thank you, thank you.”
    Kelly awoke the next morning with renewed determination. She wheeled herself to the barnyard with a treat for Trixie. Grasping Trixie’s mane, she pulled herself up from the wheelchair and stood beside the pony. Stretching to reach Trixie’s back, she brushed her until the pony’s coat shone.
    Kelly’s legs grew stronger each day. Then, eager to ride, she climbed up the wooden fence and struggled to pull herself onto the pony’s back. Trixie’s coat was warm and silky against Kelly’s bare legs.
    “Look! I’m riding. . . . I’m riding!” Kelly yelled as Trixie’s slow trot bounced her up and down like a rag doll. “Go, Trixie!” Kelly dug her heels into the pony’s sides, and they raced through the gate to the open pasture. Kelly squealed with delight, and Laddie ran after them, barking wildly.
    When school started, an enthusiastic Kelly sprang onto the bus with a cheerful greeting. No more wheelchair for her! At home, a poster of a circus hung in Kelly’s room. It showed a smiling