In a cozy stable filled with the sweet scent of hay and the soft sounds of gentle munching, lived a young horse named Sparkle. Sparkle had a coat the colour of polished chestnuts and a mane like spun moonlight. More than anything, Sparkle loved to run. The wind in her mane, the thrum of her hooves on the earth – it made her heart feel light and free. She had run in a few races before, and the thought of the next one made her tummy feel fluttery, like tiny butterflies were having a party inside.
One evening, tucked into her warm stall after a happy day grazing in the fields, Sparkle couldn't stop thinking about the 'next race'. When would it be? What would it be like? Would she be fast enough? She fidgeted a little, her ears twitching. She felt a mix of bubbling excitement and a tiny prickle of worry.
Old Bramble, the wisest pony in the stable with a beard that looked like soft grey moss, noticed Sparkle’s restlessness. "Thinking about the next big run, are you, young Sparkle?" he asked kindly.
Sparkle nodded, nuzzling his stall door. "Oh, Bramble, I can't wait! But I also feel a bit... wiggly inside. I want to be ready! What if I'm not fast enough? When is it, anyway?"
Bramble chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "Ah, impatience! A tricky feeling. The 'next race' will happen exactly when it is meant to. Rushing towards it won't make it come any faster, and it won't make you any readier."
"But how do I get ready, then?" Sparkle asked, feeling a little confused.
"By focusing on today, not just tomorrow," Bramble said gently. "You get ready by eating your hay with good cheer, drinking fresh water, and resting deeply at night. You get ready by listening carefully to our kind trainer, Mr. Fitzwilliam, during practice. Each gentle trot, each steady canter, each stretch – it all helps. It’s like building a strong, happy house, brick by brick."
Sparkle thought about this. It wasn't just about running as fast as possible *right now*. It was about all the quiet, steady work. It was about the patience of waiting for the right time, and the effort of preparing her body and mind bit by bit.
The next day during practice, Sparkle didn't worry about the future race. Instead, she focused on Mr. Fitzwilliam's calm voice, the feel of the soft ground under her hooves, and the rhythm of her own breathing. She practiced her starts not by exploding forward, but by waiting for the signal and moving smoothly. She cantered around the field, not just trying to go fast, but trying to feel strong and graceful.
Mr. Fitzwilliam smiled at her. "That's it, Sparkle. Feel the power growing in you, but remember that true strength comes from being calm and ready, not just quick. Trust your training. Trust yourself."
Over the following days, Sparkle focused on the process. She enjoyed her meals, loved her grooming, and slept soundly, dreaming of green fields. During practice, she put in her best effort, not out of worry, but out of a quiet determination to be strong and healthy. The butterflies in her tummy settled down, replaced by a warm feeling of readiness.
She realised that being ready for the 'next race' wasn't about knowing the date or feeling nervous excitement. It was about the patience to wait, the effort of daily practice, and the quiet confidence that comes from knowing you are doing your best each day. When the time for the next race finally came, Sparkle wasn't filled with jittery nerves, but with a peaceful excitement.
As the stars began to twinkle outside the stable window that night, Sparkle lay down on her soft straw bed. She closed her eyes, the scent of hay tickling her nose. The 'next race' felt like a happy promise in the future, but the real joy was in the quiet strength she felt right now, ready and peaceful. And with a soft sigh, Sparkle drifted off to sleep, dreaming of steady hoofbeats and calm, starlit skies.