Take a look inside

Joseph galloped down the dirt road beside the farm, gripping Frederick’s stick neck tightly between his knees. The morning air was cool and fresh, the kind that made his lungs feel happy when he breathed it in. Dew clung to the tall grass along the roadside, and the sunlight filtered through the cottonwood trees, dappling the ground with shifting patches of gold.

Joseph loved this part of the day best. The farm was awake but quiet, as if it

were stretching before speaking. A meadowlark called from the fence, and somewhere behind him, a screen door creaked softly in the breeze. Joseph breathed in the smell of dirt and grass and summer morning. He liked how everything felt steady right now.

“Just you and me,” he whispered to Frederick. “Best riders on the road.”

The road curved gently through the hills, rising and dipping like a path made for adventure. When Joseph rode here, he could imagine himself anywhere, racing the wind, climbing mountain passes, crossing wide plains. Frederick was a good climber, and Joseph leaned forward.

“Up we go,” he whispered, urging Frederick onward.

Near the big cottonwood tree, where he always stopped, Joseph slowed.

Something was different. He had ridden here for years but had never seen anyone else here before. He froze.

Three tall ladies stood beneath the tree. They were glowing.

He blinked once. Then again.

They didn’t disappear. His stomach fluttered. He had never seen anyone glow before. He tightened his fingers around Frederick’s handle and planted his feet on the ground.

The road behind him felt long. The road ahead felt unknown.

He wasn’t sure what to do. Part of him wanted to turn around and run home. Another part of him felt curious, like when you open a door slowly just to peek.

“Frederick,” Joseph whispered, barely moving his lips, “can you believe this?”

Frederick didn’t answer, of course. But Joseph felt sure his stick horse agreed that this was very strange. He swallowed and took one careful step forward.

“Um … hello,” he said.

The ladies turned toward him. Their smiles were warm and kind, the kind that made the tight feeling in his chest loosen just a little.

Joseph nodded, gripping Frederick closer. “I’m Joseph. And this is Frederick.” He hesitated, then added quickly, “He’s the best stick horse ever.”

The ladies laughed softly, a joyful sound that reminded Joseph of wind chimes on the porch.

“And your stick horses are very nice too,” he hurried to say, not wanting to hurt their feelings.

The tallest one’s eyes shone as she looked at Frederick. “I really likeFrederick,” she told him.

Joseph felt himself relax. He told them that he and Frederick rode this road often and that he had never met anyone else who rode with a stick horse.Talking felt easy—almost like he had known them for a long time.

The oldest of the three ladies stepped forward. “My name is Penny.” She motioned toward the other two. “This is Margo and Jill. We’re angels.”


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