Reigning Grace Ranch

The ranch itself is a bit sprawling, but not pretentiously so. A total of 33 horses, as well as a few other friendly faces, congregate in several paddocks. Unlike other facilities, the horses divide themselves into pairs and herds and are not boarded in individual stables. This, too, is by design.   Nearly all of these horses are rescued, some from situations of neglect or trauma, some as retired race horses, and some from homes that can no longer support them or others from wild herds whose territory has been encroached on by human development. They each have a story, and Amanda shares each one as she walks easily through a sea of curious muzzles and swishing tails.     Each week, these horses are restorative for the souls of about 50 children who are considered “at risk.” Many are in foster care or in state custody. Some have been adopted. Some are dealing with personal tragedies like death or divorce in their families. Some struggle with self-esteem issues or other difficult demons. In any case, they find horse-powered peace and healing in the strength and vulnerability of these four-legged companions.   “It’s almost magical what happens when you pair broken horses with broken children,” Amanda tells me. I feel it as I watch a small group of young people paired with a group of eager adult mentors happily busy themselves with their first chores of the day.   One of the many unique aspects about Reigning Grace Ranch is that the horses are in charge of “picking” the children they work with. They are remarkably intuitive. Whether it’s from centuries of honing their predator-sensing skills, or simply because they are more empathetic than most people give them credit for, horses seem to sense breathing patterns, heart rates, and the energy people have when they step into the paddock. They sense when they should stay away – and they sense when they are needed.   “It’s remarkable,” Amanda tells me pointedly. “Almost every time, when a horse chooses a child, they do it for a reason. Something happens that day. Nine out of 10 times, they see something in that horse that reminds them of themselves, and they bond in a way that they were just supposed to bond.”  

Today, Reigning Grace Ranch is the kind of amazing place where dreams come true – even those dreams that have been tucked away into dark corners and covered in a layer of fear and sadness. It’s a place where no person or animal is a misfit, including the ranch’s single Jersey cow, Norman, who seems to think he is a horse. No one minds, though, because at Reigning Grace, it’s possible to be whoever you want to be without judgment.   The ranch is 100 percent donation-funded, although there is little wiggle room in its budget. It also runs on the kindness of volunteers, from retired teachers to college students, who mentor children, exercise horses, and keep up with the tremendous amount of work it takes to keep miracles happening.   The Moores are always looking for volunteers to lend expertise in construction, plumbing, and physical labor, as well as volunteer mentors, who are carefully screened for the safety of the vulnerable children who trust them. And, of course, they need monetary donations.   As I drove away down the now-familiar route, I couldn’t help but think I had witnessed something wonderful. Sure, the horses were more than special, and the affection I witnessed between children, caring adults, and animals was exceptional. But what really struck me was the extraordinarily beauty of the love that brought so many together.   When we open our hearts to other creatures, no matter how many legs they have, we experience something unique. Where we have been and what has marked us in life are no longer important. It’s something like grace, and let grace reign.

Writer Amanda Christmann Larson