Excerpted by permission of the author from Helen’s Garden: What we learned about life and love in a small country school, by Helen Mitchell, Niche Press, 2003.

One of many stories in Helen’s Garden, “Jiggs” reminds us that we are all learners and sharing the process of one’s learning fosters friendship.

Jiggs
by Helen Mitchell

“Horses! Let’s ride horses!”

A large number of the class came from families who bred horses. On this day the cry “let’s ride horses” was my hasty introduction to creative drama. So, what do you do when you face 25 wiggling little kindergartners and all you have is a piano and a wide-open auditorium?

“OK, let’s have a horse race,” I announced.

“Line up at the gate, and wait for the music to tell you when to go!” Over the next half-hour, the children taught me more about horses than I had observed in a lifetime. They raced and stomped, pawed and whinnied. They really knew horses, and they mimicked them perfectly. It would become their favorite activity when given a choice.

One morning, a new member, Peggy, joined our class. As she watched the riders line up at the gate, Peggy held my hand tightly.

“Would you like to join the race, Peggy, while I give the signal on the piano?”

“I don’t know how to ride a horse,” Peggy said with a puzzled expression. Jeanette, nearby, couldn’t believe her ears.

“EVERYBODY knows how to ride a horse!” she said with a scornful tone, and Peggy looked crushed.

“Well,” I said, “I don’t know how to ride a horse, either!”

My comment quieted the class in seconds. They stared in disbelief at their teacher, and gathered at my feet for an explanation.

“You see,” I said, “I grew up in a city so I never learned about horses until I came to your town to teach school.” Well, the story of the teacher who didn’t know how to ride spread all through the village. Jeanette showed more concern than most at my lack of the fundamentals. So, she took the problem to her mom.

“Mama, Mrs. Hamman doesn’t know how to ride a horse! Can we teach her?”

“Well,” said her mother, “find out if she wants to learn to ride first, Jeanette.”

“Oh, yes, she does,” Jeanette said, “Of course she wants to learn, Mama. All she knows is how to play the piano and write stuff in the sand!”

Jeanette’s mom smiled and added, “Well, invite her to come to the stables if she wants a few lessons.”

The morning ritual in our room included a friendly Magic Circle.  The children sat on mats and shared their thoughts for the day. Sometimes I introduced a topic, other mornings the children arrived bursting with news. One day, Jeanette opened the conversation with exceptional enthusiasm.

“Mrs. Hamman, my mom said you can come to our stable and learn to ride a horse.”

“Oh, how exciting!” I said. Whether or not I felt compelled to ride a horse, the excitement in Jeanette’s voice inspired me to at least explore the topic. Jeanette added some advice. “I think you better start learning to ride with Jiggs,” she said, “because he is a little closer to the ground. In fact,” she said, “Jiggs is a mule. He is my best friend. You and Jiggs are the only friends I have.”

I looked deep in the eyes of this lonely child, so serious about her mission. She offered me the very thing she was so hungry for herself – a friend and companionship.

“Jeanette, I will call your mom and make plans to visit your stables.”

Later, at the stable, I stood at Jiggs’s side. He may have been Jeanette’s best friend, but this mule wanted as little to do with me as possible. At the moment of truth I felt too tall, too heavy and too scared to make any attempt to climb on the mule’s back.

“Jeanette, I believe I could easily break this beautiful animal’s back if I tried to ride on him. I think I’ll learn on a horse!”

Jeanette’s mother agreed that Jiggs was a one-person friend, and not inclined to enlarge his acquaintance with strangers.

My riding lessons became a prime topic of show-and-tell for Jeanette. From her point of view she became the teacher and I the student.  At the time, I was not aware of the importance of the change in our relationship, but in retrospect I realize that Jeanette set the tone of my teaching philosophy for the rest of my career.

Peggy sat close to me as Jeanette related the incidents that struck her funny. “Mrs. Hamman fell off the horse!” Jeanette reported. “Mrs. Hamman’s leg got caught in the stirrup! She looked scared.”

“Yes, and sometimes my horse looked scared!” I enjoyed embroidering her story.

It was amusing and wonderful to watch the reaction of the class as they learned of my progress. The friendship with Jeanette and Jiggs will be carried in my heart for the rest of my life.