Amy lives and breathes horses, but all her horses are in books or in her head. So when she goes on a picnic with her friend Hannah's family, Hannah thinks Amy is imagining things when she says she heard a horse neigh nearby. But then Hannah hears a neigh, too! What's a horse doing in the park?
With a little help from Mona at the Rainbow Street Shelter, Amy makes sure the horse is safe and sound. She almost hopes the owner never turns up, so that she could keep visiting the pony. . . .
There's the mother at the doorway, and the children at the gate, And the little parlor windows with the curtains white and straight. There are shaggy asters blooming in the bed that lines the fence, And the simplest of the blossoms seems of mighty consequence. Oh, there isn't any mansion underneath God's starry dome That can rest a weary pilgrim like the little place called home. Men have sought for gold and silver; men have dreamed at night of fame; In the heat of youth they've struggled for achievement's honored name; But the selfish crowns are tinsel, and their shining jewels paste, And the wine of pomp and glory soon grows bitter to the taste. For there's never any laughter, howsoever far you roam, Like the laughter of the loved ones in the happiness of home.
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