Remembrance

To say this year has been busy feels like an understatement. I’m honestly stunned that we’re already a week into December, with 2025 quietly preparing to close its final chapter.

This morning I sat down to work on our Sponsor a Horse for the Holidays campaign. Every year, we offer sponsorships that help set our herd up for the year ahead. Writing the bios and spotlight posts is one of my favourite parts of this season—because it lets me share the stories that most people never get to see. Their quirks, their softness, their spark. I laugh, I cry, and I find myself remembering where each of them once stood… and where they now shine.

Since opening our doors in 2020, we’ve supported the adoption and rehoming of 52 animals. Each one has left an imprint on us. But the herd we have right now… there’s something undeniably special about them. An energetic bond runs through these horses—between them, and with us—unlike anything we’ve ever witnessed.

Something magical is gathering with this group. We can’t quite name it yet, but we can feel it humming in the distance, preparing to unfold. And we’re excited—so excited—to see what’s coming for every soul in our care.

Working on the bios this morning, I could feel a nudge that was asking me to pause. To step back from the noise, the lists, the endless movement… and remember why I’m here. How I got here. And where my heart still dreams of going.

I get up every morning for this herd. I trek through deep snow and biting cold, filling waters, pitching hay, offering soft scratches and quiet moments of connection.

These days, with two jobs, farm life, sponsorship campaigns, and daylight disappearing faster than I can blink, I don’t get as much training time as I’d love. The darkness brings its own challenges. But still—I move through it. Because my heart is here. My purpose is here.

Everything I do, I do for them. And they know.
Because on the hardest mornings, when the tears come hot and my fingers are numb, there is always—always—a warm breath on my cheek or a gentle nudge at my back. Their way of saying:

“We see you.”
“We love you.”
“We’re grateful.”
“We’re here for you too.”

I do this for them. And in return, they keep me going. They keep the fire alive in me—the fire that’s been quietly building, preparing for something new.

Because change is coming. And we can all feel it.

Photo courtesy of SJ Originals