The Little J Rancher

The bus was not moving very smoothly on the rough country road. Jacob decided to entertain the children with a story. “A long time ago,” he said, “when I was in 6th grade, we got a summer project. All the students had to make a project on what they wanted to be when they grow up. Being the son of a mildly famous horse trainer, I wanted nothing more than to have my own ranch when I grew up.”

The story had certainly intrigued the children who now sat up with keen interest, in contrast to their previous bored and tired selves. Jacob carried on, “I spent day and night working on my project. I worked almost every day that summer on my project. I wanted mine to be the best submission in the whole class. Finally, I had made a seventeen-page project which included a plan of the 150-acre ranch along with a 3500 square feet living area for myself. I was confident that I will get the highest grade on this project. But when it was returned, I saw a big red ‘F’ written on the cover page. Under it was the words, ‘See me after class.’

I was devastated. After class, the teacher told me that setting up a ranch requires a lot of money. Since I wasn’t from a very rich family, she told me that I shouldn’t even dream of becoming a ranch owner. She further said that if I resubmitted my project with a more reasonable goal, she would consider changing my grade.”

The bus shuddered as it moved onto a rough stretch of road. The children were completely silent, and apart from the shuddering of the bus, the only noise that could be heard was the gentle trickle of the nearby stream. The teacher accompanying the students looked at Jacob with a tinge of sadness, moved by his story perhaps.

He continued, “I told my father to go and talk to the headmistress regarding my project. My father just smiled and told me that I must deal with this on my own. He also said that the choice I make will have the ability to change my life forever.

“I had trouble sleeping that night. A chaotic flurry of thoughts and emotions raced through my mind, keeping the sleep away. When I did finally drift off into slumberland, I had a strange dream. I was in a ranch. I was riding a horse. The air had never smelt sweeter. Suddenly the horse spoke in my father’s voice, ‘Never let anyone steal your dreams, son. Never.’

“The next day I went to my teacher and said, ‘You can keep my grades, miss. But let me keep my dreams.’

‘Sure sonny, cant wait to see your ranch someday’, she sneered at me.”

As soon as Jacob finished his sentence, the bus stopped in front of the huge metal gates of the ‘Little J Ranch’, the biggest in the country.

“Okay children, we have arrived at our field trip destination. Get off in a single file, and no indiscipline!” said the teacher.

Jacob had already disembarked and was waiting for them outside. “Welcome to my ranch,” he said with a sense of accomplishment. The children thought he was just greeting then. But the teacher, now aged, caught the undertone of his words. It almost felt like the Jacob she had taught many years ago was mocking her.