A MISTY ISLAND BEDTIME STORY

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who dreamed of oceans, islands, and ponies. To this landlocked animal lover, these subjects were magical. In her dreams an angry sea was churning, black clouds were hovering, and a wild stallion was screaming. On an ancient ship, the crew was too busy navigating the surging ocean to notice the screams of the stallion, or the rock shelf looming ahead. With a crackle of lightening, a thunderous clap of thunder, and an earth shattering shudder, the ship collided with the rocks. Spanish stallions bound for America were pitched into the raging ocean.

Days later, some horses washed onto the shore of an island near Virginia. Their shaggy coats were soggy with salt water. They were famished, thirsty and terrified. Slowly, they grew accustomed to their new surroundings, finding food and fresh water. These wild horses remained on the island for nearly 100 years, left alone to roam free and breed. A special kind of pony, smaller than the other horses, came to be in her dreams. This pony was a beautiful cream color with patches of tan and a shaggy mane and tail.

One hundred years later, the magical island of the little girl's dream was discovered by settlers and natives alike and named Chincoteague to honor Indian lore. The Virginian people were fascinated with these ponies and founded the annual "Penning of the Ponies" tradition. The ponies would swim across the channel surrounding the island to be auctioned off every year on the same weekend. Acquiring such a pony was a little girl's dream come true.

One such family, with a brother and sister team much like dreamer girl's own family, participated in the "Penning of the Ponies" one year. A wild mare and her filly captivated their attention. The momma horse had eyes dark as coal and a golden, tanned coat. Her name was Phantom. She flared her nostrils while her front legs protested wildly in the air. She screamed for her little one swimming across the water to captivity. Brother and sister fell in love instantly with the young foal and named her Misty. Topaz eyes, curly fur, creamy white flanks, tan patches of highlights, she was a vision of beauty. Miraculously, she seemed devoid of her mother's spirited, angry nature. She herself was docile as a lamb, and took to those children instantly.

"Misty of Chincoteague" is a children's book, written by Marguerite Henry, based on the true story of how Chincoteague Island came to be. The ship-wrecked vessel, the horses' journey, and even the family, (Beebe family), are all true accounts of how Misty the pony came to be. It was also a favorite bedtime story of a little girl I once knew. Her dad read her chapters from this book night after night. He never tired of the contents of this story; never suggested they read a different book. On some nights, the little girl would ask endless questions about the setting or characters. Other nights the rhythmic cadence of his voice would softly lull her to sleep.

The attraction of ponies is a frequent story line in many books and fairy tales. It conjures up images of an affluent childhood, or a romantic, forever love. The little girl in this story was gifted a Misty of Chincoteague replica pony for Christmas one year. This toy pony provided hours of imaginative play with Barbies for characters and cardboard boxes for castles. I can't help but think if this kind of make believe is not just one of many things missing in the simulated video games nowadays.

It isn't hard to imagine that the bedtime story ritual has been cast to the wayside in this more modern era of busy single parent families, double parent working families, and technology. As our beloved childhood authors of 50 years ago are passing away at an alarming rate (Beverly Cleary, Eric Caryl), perhaps pandemic isolation has forced a kind of togetherness that fosters reintroducing that tradition. The benefits of this old fashioned ritual are endless for both child and adult. Magical characters and settings can be just a page turn or closed eyelid away. However, the parent/child bond, childhood memories, and dreams last eternally.