Christine Rivlin

When I was seven years old, I lived in Southern California, across the street from a girl who owned a pony. As any seven-year-old girl would probably tell you, all I wanted to do was ride that pony. I would ask the neighbor girl every time I saw her, and one day, she finally agreed on one condition: that I first jump out of her second-story window and into the big pile of sand below- ten times. It was a daunting task, but I was committed to my dream.

Unfortunately (or perhaps not, depending on your perspective), my mother returned home after I'd made a few jumps and discovered what I was doing. I never did get to ride that pony. But my commitment to the idea remained, and my parents bought me a horse of my own when we moved to Woodside a few years later. I got bucked off daily, and at one point, tossed into a water trough! But I kept getting back on. Looking back, I'm not even sure what made me stick with it-I just loved that horse! Read More