Six-year-old Henry Trimnell (pictured getting ready for Christmas) discovered what it was like to be the editor of a publishing company when he was invited to judge the children’s stories written this term by our Harlow College creative writing students.
He enjoyed all the stories but ‘Joey’s Horse’ written by Mica Isaacs, with illustrations by Mica’s friend Machi Papageorgiou, was his winner. The original was in a PowerPoint format with a number of beautifully drawn illustrations. Here we print the story, aimed at children aged six to eight years, with just one of the pictures. It is followed by Henry’s critique.
Joey had a horse. He wasn’t a nice horse, or a pretty horse, or a horse who’d let you scratch his ears. He wasn’t a young horse, or a clean horse, or a horse who’d run and jump and play. He was a mean, old, grumpy horse, with a dirty coat and flies around his tail.
But he was Joey’s Horse. And Joey loved him nonetheless.
After a while, Joey’s Horse got sick. It got harder for him to carry Joey on his back, and he wouldn’t talk as much as he used to, and he started sleeping for longer and longer. And one day, he didn’t wake up at all. Joey was worried.
She pushed on him, but he didn’t budge.
She hugged him, but he wasn’t warm.
She cried, but he didn’t comfort her.
She cried for a long time.
“Don’t cry,” said a Squirrel from a nearby tree. It climbed down and went to stand in front of her.
“What’s wrong?” The Squirrel said.
Joey wiped her tears. “My Horse won’t wake up.”
“Maybe he’s dead.”
“No,” she quickly said, “He’s not dead.”
The Squirrel looked at the Horse, then back at Joey. “I think he might be.”
“But he’s not.”
“Alright,” the Squirrel said. “Shall I be your Horse in the meantime?”
She looked at the Squirrel and thought for a bit. Finally, she shook her head and pointed at the Squirrel’s tail.
“My Horse’s tail just goes down,” she said. “Yours goes up, see?”
“Oh, that’s right.” It looked at its tail, too. “Well, anyhow, you shouldn’t stay here. I hear there’s a bear around.”
Joey watched as the Squirrel ran back toward its tree. But before it was completely gone, it turned back to her for one last word.
“And don’t cry,” the Squirrel said. “It’ll be okay.”
And then it climbed back up the tree. And Joey was alone.
“Don’t cry,” she repeated, and she took a deep breath, and said goodbye to her Horse, and went off into the forest on her own.
The forest felt darker without the Horse around. It felt like, at any moment, the trees themselves could jump out and hurt her. And since she wasn’t quite
looking at where she was going, that’s exactly what she thought had happened when she suddenly found herself fallen on her backside at the foot of a tall
deer.
“Hello,” said the Deer, its face shoved into hers. “Who are you?”
Joey shuffled back a bit before getting up. “I’m Joey,” she said.
“Where are you headed?” The Deer asked, moving back as well to give Joey more space.
“I don’t know,” said Joey, “But the Squirrel said there’s a bear around, and my Horse isn’t here to keep me safe, so I need to go somewhere.”
“Shall I keep you safe in the meantime?” Said the Deer. “I’m a lot like a horse, you see? I have a long snout, and four legs, with hooves at the end of them. I can help you forget about that Horse.”
“I suppose we can try,” Joey said.
And so, Joey and the Deer spent some time together. They spoke about what sorts of fruits they liked best, and they played games where they chased each other around the trees, and Joey had fun. But she just couldn’t forget about her Horse.
The Deer is nice, she thought. But my Horse’s tail is scruffier.
All of a sudden, while the two were running, the Deer stopped in its tracks, and when Joey saw what it was that had startled it, she stopped too.
In front of her stood a massive brown beast, sharp claws and teeth and ragged fur. It was a Bear, so much bigger than she was, and now it was walking towards her. The Deer had already run away. Joey also tried to run or shout or do anything at all, but she was frozen. And now it was right near her. The only thing Joey could see was its enormous face. It huffed a spurt of warm air at her and went away.
Joey stayed frozen for quite a while after it had gone. Once she was sure she was alone, she started to breathe again. She started to breathe too much. Her eyes leaked tears down her face, and clutching her chest, she dropped to the ground.
“What’s wrong?” Someone said. Joey didn’t look to see who it was.
“My Horse is dead!” She shouted. “And I’m not supposed to cry, and I’m supposed to forget about him, and he’s supposed to have woken up already, but he’s not going to!”
The other person didn’t say anything. He sat himself near Joey and made himself comfortable and listened to Joey’s crying. And the crying went on for a little bit, but soon got a lot quieter. At that point, Joey looked up and saw the friendly face of a little brown Hedgehog.
“I understand how you feel,” the Hedgehog said.
“What do you mean?” Joey sniffled.
The Hedgehog went on. “A long time ago, I also had somebody that I loved a lot, and that person died, too, and it felt like things would never get easier.”
“What did you do to make things easier?” She asked.
He took a moment to think.
“I kept living,” he said.
The Hedgehog smiled. And that made Joey smile too. And she wiped her eyes with her sleeve and sat up again.
“Your tail is nothing like my Horse’s,” she said. “But I’d still like to be friends with you.”
“I suppose we can try,” said the Hedgehog.
And so, Joey and the Hedgehog became friends. At first, all they spoke about was who they’d lost. The Hedgehog said it was his mum who’d died, and he told Joey all about what it was like when she was alive, and how much fun he had with her. And Joey did the same about her Horse.
But soon they found other things to speak about, and they spoke about those things instead.
And Joey knew that she had a Hedgehog now. But once, she had a Horse.
Henry said: I feel sad that the horse died. It is a good story. I like that they keep getting new friends, like the squirrel and hedgehog, I realised that nothing lasts forever and there is always someone to look after you like the deer.
When mum went to see me in bed I told her about the story and said it made me feel sad. But even though it’s sad it stuck in my head and I told my friends about it.