BY KYLIE STANDISH
At the age of 2, I stood on the top of a hill at my grandmother’s company picnic. From my vantage point, I could see pony rides being given down at the bottom. I looked for my parents and then I made my escape. I ran as fast as my little legs could carry me. I ran down that hill toward those ponies, screaming the whole time, “Need to ride the pony!” And ride the pony I did.