An weary horse that was unable to escape was laying in a ditch. We pulled it out and helped. However, it did something shortly after that left me stunned.
I never thought a stroll through the forest might become a true miracle. 
I was visiting my grandma at her old home in Scotland last fall when everything happened.
I made the decision to go mushroom picking with a few neighbors because it was a calm day and the air smelled like pine needles and moist dirt. We were joined by Josh, a student on break from London, and Mrs. Maggie, an elderly but lively woman with a basket twice her size.
Josh abruptly stopped as we were strolling down a small path that was covered with golden leaves and exclaimed, “Look!” Something is in the ditch!
I initially assumed it was just an old tire or a fallen tree. But my heart skipped a beat as we drew nearer. It was a horse in the deep ditch. Covered in burrs and muck, it was malnourished and barely breathing. Its eyes were terrified, but not angry; rather, they were a mute supplication.
An old, cracked leather collar hung around its neck. Thus, it wasn’t crazy. Had it gotten away? Or did someone simply give it up when it was useless?
We were unable to stop there. Farmer Thomas had a tractor and sturdy straps, so I phoned him. The entire hamlet cooperated to pull the horse out for three hours. As though we were saving a loved one, we labored in silence while knee-deep in mud.
It didn’t stand when we eventually managed to get it to the side of the road. All it did was lie there, panting. Someone brought a bag of oats, and someone else brought a bucket of water. I put my palm on its neck and sat down beside it. It winced but remained in place.
Then the horse got to his feet, slowly and laboriously. shakily at first, then steadily. It appeared to be the most exquisite horse I had ever seen when the wind grabbed its mane.
She was adopted by Mrs. Maggie and given the name Hope a week later. Hope now grazes contentedly in a verdant meadow on the outskirts of the village and always welcomes visitors. She reportedly now assists kids with special disabilities.
Hope approached me one day, long after I had all but forgotten the episode, gently and quietly, as though to express gratitude. I saw a life full of hope and trust in her eyes, not simply thankfulness.
My heart stopped with that gesture. I came to see that genuine strength is found in kindness, in recognizing another person’s suffering and offering assistance without anticipating anything in return.
I now always pay attention while I’m walking through those woods because I never know who might be in need of assistance. Because sometimes a single act of kindness can have a lasting impact on someone’s life.
And may this story serve as a reminder to all of us to never be indifferent since it is how real miracles happen.
