The Christmas Pony by Melody Carlson

pony, and Pastor McHenry says God can do impossible things.” She peered up at George. “Do you think God will answer my prayer?”
    George’s mouth was in a firm line now. “Yes . . .” he said slowly. “I definitely think God will answer your prayer, Lucy. But sometimes God’s answer isn’t the answer we want. Sometimes God’s answer is no . . . or wait.”
    Lucy kicked a stone on the road and sighed. “I know. Grandma says that exact same thing sometimes. But maybe God will say yes.”
    â€œMaybe so.” George pointed up at the sky. “It looks like this snow is really coming now. Maybe we should walk faster.”
    By the time they got home, everything, including Lucy and George, was spotted in white snowflakes. Pausing on the front porch to brush the snow off, Lucy suddenly remembered Smoky. “Do you think he’ll be okay?” she said quietly to George.
    â€œWho?”
    â€œSmoky.” She imagined the pony coated with snow, shivering in the wind.
    George got a thoughtful look, then nodded. “Yes. Smoky has a thick wooly coat. I’m sure he’ll be just fine.”
    Lucy hoped that George was right. She’d never worried about farm animals being out in the cold like that before, but she knew that she wouldn’t want to have to live outside when it was snowing and blowing like it was starting to do now. And even though Mama used most of the barn for her laundry business, there were still some nice warm stalls in the back. Surely it would be all right for a pony to use one of them . . . just to come in from the cold. Lucy would keep it nice and clean.

    Lucy was pleased to wake up to a white, wintry world on Monday morning. It was only a few inches so far, but it was beautiful. Like a gigantic frosted cake.
    â€œSit still,” Mama said as Lucy kicked the heels of her boots against the kitchen stool. “Let me get this last braid finished.”
    â€œI just can’t wait to go outside,” Lucy said happily. “I’m going to make a snow angel first thing. Then a snowman if the snow is sticky enough.”
    â€œJust make sure you see to the chickens first. And bring in some more wood.”
    â€œYes, Mama.” Lucy pulled on her coat, searching her pockets for mittens. Before long she was bundled up and on her way outside with a bucket of chicken food. The air was crisp and cold, and the sound of snow crunching beneath her boots filled her with high hopes. She always felt excited over the first snow, and to have it before Christmas was a real treat.
    â€œGood morning, Lucy.”
    She jumped to see George coming around the corner of the barn. “What are you doing out here?” she asked.
    â€œJust taking a walk.” He jerked his thumb behind him. “I broke the ice in the chickens’ water trough. I hope that’s all right.”
    â€œSure.” She grinned. “Thanks. I’m just on my way to feed them now.”
    He turned around and walked back with her. “I noticed an old Model T back behind the barn.”
    â€œThat was my daddy’s car.” Lucy opened the gate to the chicken yard and went inside. George hadn’t just broken the ice; he’d refilled the water and even cleaned the snow out of the food trough so it was all ready for her to dump the kitchen scraps. The hungry hens gathered around her feetas she spread the food out for them. “You girls need to start laying eggs again,” she told them.
    â€œWhy aren’t they laying eggs?” George held the gate open for her, then securely latched it closed after she came out.
    Lucy explained about the winter solstice, and he rubbed his chin with a thoughtful expression. “So they need sunlight to lay eggs?”
    â€œThat’s what Grandma says. It always happens right around Christmastime.”
    â€œWhat if we rigged up a light bulb inside their coop?”
    â€œA