Below is the story of my Lady Roxana, whom I rescued from an Antique Mall an hour away from my home. The tale she tells is based purely on her memories of her life before she and I met. Coincidentally, I had bought Sham in similar fashion from a little girl at BreyerFest, just a little less than a month before...

Though many things of my memory have long been forgotten or buried back in the depths of my mind, I can still recall certain things about my first few lives.

If I can remember vaguely, it seems like I was bought for a little girl on her birthday. Her mother had bought me for her because she had liked the book, King of the Wind, and she knew that her daughter liked white horses. Incidentally, she bought me, Lady Roxana, for her little girl's birthday. Her daughter also received a small version of the palomino fighting stallion. Humorously, she received two of those for her birthday because one of her relatives bought her the exact same horse. Along with all of the wrapping paper and ribbons, our boxes were tossed into the trash as the little girl hauled us back to her room.

From there, we were her faithful subjects for playtime. She also had two Classic chestnut Arabian foals, and she pretended that one was mine. The other belonged to a Classic Mustang stallion she owned. Among the others she had were a Classic Black Beauty set, a Classic Quarter Horse mare, a palomino grazing foal, and an alabaster Old Timer. She called me Lady, and he was Bud, whose hat had been lost long ago. She liked white horses best, it seemed. She played with me, especially, a lot.

That's how I got all of my battle scars. From Crayons, also, when I would stand by her and she would try to draw me on a piece of paper. It's not that she didn't love us, it was just that she liked to play roughly with us, plus she didn't know any better.

Our little owner accumulated few Breyers over the years, until she finally lost interest in us. That's when we noticed that we would be placed on a shelf more often, and we were picking up fewer black marks.

The family, we learned, was moving. We were all packed up into a box to go to the new house. Our box wasn't discovered until a few months after they had already moved in. When the mother asked if she wanted us anymore, the girl said, yes, she still wanted to keep us.

So, we stayed; placed on a shelf and were played with no more. Once in a while, we were removed to dust underneath and such, but we didn't receive the love and attention we had been used to so many years ago.

The years passed, and the little girl was now going off to college. So we, along with some of the other things she had once treasured, were doomed. Her mother, once again, packed us up into a box. This time, however, we would not be going back to the girl's arms.

The mother rented a booth in an antique mall; she filled it with many of her old things, and we were all placed on a shelf in the corner. She had priced each of us separately with tags wrapped around our feet; I was priced at $18 and labeled "Breyer Horse", as we all were. Bud was priced at $20, I believe. We stayed there for quite a long time. People would pass through the booth and look all of the things in it over. They would gaze at us for a few seconds, then forget about us and go about their merry way.

Once, a girl came in with her mother and spotted the mare of the Mustang family set. She loved her, and so the set was broken up and the family was separated from each other. Hardly any person would give us that much attention, however. I thought we would be standing there on that shelf in that booth for all time.

That is, until one fortunate day. A woman was searching for something in all of the booths, but she failed to notice us and passed on by. She briskly walked down the aisle, calling to her daughter, "Jamie, I found a Breyer in booth #16, but it's all scratched up, and it's small."

The daughter, Jamie, came hurrying to find the booth which held the Breyer, which was just a few booths away from ours. The girl inspected the horse, then asked her mother, "Was that all of the Breyers you found?"

"Yes," she answered.

I was thinking, But you didn't see us! We're over here! Come look at us!

Disappointed, the girl looked around a few more booths as her mother started to head to the doors to leave. Suddenly, the girl spotted us and made a loud, overwhelming gasp. I felt chills going through my body as her eyes locked straight on me.

She rushed into the booth and immediately began looking at us. However, I knew she was making her way down to me when she started lifting each model up on the way toward me. When finally, she came to me, I heard something that I hadn't heard in years.

"Lady Roxana," the girl gasped, gently lifting me from the dusty, old, wooden shelf. She examined me with critical eyes, but they were sympathetic at the same time. "Poor girl," she whispered to me aloud. "Looks like you've been through a lot."

She turned me over and saw the red crayon marks on my neck, and the many black marks all over me; I was worse on my right side than my left. She had a worried, concerned, longing look on her face as he was inspecting me. Finally, she set me aside on a wooden desk in the booth and began to look at the other horses.

Bud, who had been standing on my right, didn't seem as bad as I was, to me. However, there was the fact that he didn't have his hat, either. He still had black and crayon marks all over him. She liked him, too. After setting him back on the shelf and inspecting the others, she was telling her parents all about us when she was going through us again.

"Look, this is the Classic Black Beauty," she said, picking him up and showing him to her mother and father. She set him back on the shelf, then found the mustang stallion standing solo on a table below the shelf. The girl picked him up, looked him over, then set him on the shelf with all the other horses. Then, she picked me back up and looked me over again. To her mother, she spoke, "This is Lady Roxana, Mom." When her mother didn't react that much, she continued, "Sham's mate."

Sham! That's another name that had long been buried in my past; only the little girl's mother had mentioned him many years ago. Her mother definitely reacted to that information, then she asked a little softly, "Do you want her?"

The girl holding me tenderly turned and smiled at her mother, then started examining me some more. "I think I can get most of these marks off of her... Sure, if you don't mind," she said, trying to tone down he excitement in her voice.

Finally, I would be with a new owner. But, the others were still on the shelf; I was upset about leaving them all behind. Perhaps they would find someone as loving as the girl who had found me?

The girl and her parents headed back to the check-out place, which was just around the corner from my booth. I could've been rescued by just a few seconds! I thought unbelievably. From that moment, I believed in destiny.

She placed me gently on the glass case, and the lady in turn picked me up, looking at the price on my tag. Then, she roughly ripped it off of my leg and placed me back onto the counter. The girl then started plucking at the string that was left on my leg, untying the string that had been wrapped there for what seemed like many years. Now my leg could breathe, too.

Another lady held a bag open for me. Instead of dropping me into it, my new owner held the bottom of the sack and placed me at the bottom of it as the other lady was filling out the receipt. Seeing that I was probably worth more than I looked, the bag-lady let the girl sack me instead. So, I was wrapped up carefully and the girl held me tight. When the receipt was received, it was stuck just on top of me, but it wasn't that overcoming.

The family left the antique mall, and the mother asked the girl, "Do you want to put your horse in the truck before we go into the other store?"

The girl quickly replied, "No."

"Are you sure?" the mother asked her.

Yes, apparently she was, because the girl kept careful hold of me all through the craft mall we went to next. She carried me all through there, once in a while, checking on me. Her mother bought some wooden furniture there, so we had to wait while the mom and dad was carrying it to the front of the store and loading it into the truck's trailer.

When we were all finally getting ready to leave, the girl and I went into the back of the truck. I was now on my way to a new home. Jamie, my new owner, was whispering things to me on the trip home. She uncovered me so that I could see the scenery home.

"You're going to have a happy home, Lady Roxana. And now, you can be with Sham, too!" she told me. "You will have lots of new friends, as well." She looked me over again, "I bet I can get most of these marks off of you, then you'll be as good as new."

The trip home was nice and comfy, and I realized that Jamie was more than likely telling me the truth. I became excited at the thought of a bunch of new friends to replace the ones I had recently lost.

When we were going down her driveway, Jamie held me up to the window and said, "Look, Lady Roxana, we're home!" And how! The house was huge! It was a two-story gray house, much nicer than anything I had ever lived in.

First thing she did when we came into the house was go upstairs to get her camera. Then, Jamie went downstairs and took before the wash pictures of me on her lovely deck. In front of beautiful flowers, too.

Then, we went back inside and up to her bathroom. Up there, she made me a sink full of soapy water to submerge me in. I could tell I was going to get really, really wet.

Jamie took me and sunk me under the suds and surface of the water, seeing dirt rise from my surface. I was white to begin with, but just very dirty. The marks refused to budge, however. "We're not done yet, Lady," Jamie would continually tell me. She opened up her medicine cabinet and brought out Rembrandt toothpaste. "Now," she said, "we'll get serious."

So the rubbing began. All over she scrubbed me with aqua-mint flavored toothpaste, and gradually, the marks began to come off. She started on my left side, mostly on my shoulders and thighs. To make a long story short, she worked me all over constantly, refusing to give up if a spot was persistent in keeping its tell-tale place on me. My awful neck was one of the last things to be scrubbed, and she worked there the hardest. The red marks were not wanting to come off, and they merely faded, even with all of the toothpaste and scrubbing Jamie put into me. Finally, she had had it for the day and began to rinse me all off. Her thumbs were tired from all the work, but I was grateful. During some of the grinding time she had spent on me, she would softly sing Reflection, a beautiful song that seemed to fit me. Now a shiny, almost pearly white, I stood proud on the sink as Jamie continued to wash the toothpaste off of me.

At last, Jamie dried me off with a fluffy blue towel, and I was ready to go. But where? There weren't any Breyer in her bedroom that I had seen, just Beanie Babies and a Breyer mobile hanging on her blinds.

She picked me up, her shirt now completely dripping wet, and we started to head downstairs. When we were there, she found a door and we headed down them. It was cool, dark, and dusty down there. Surely we won't be banished down here! I thought desperately.

Jamie turned a corner, and we entered a finished computer room; something much different than the rest of the basement. From there, she talked loudly to someone not in view, "You absolutely won't believe what I have, guys! Don't peek, now! I have to put her on my computer a second." She wrote everything down about me on a file on her computer, where I witnessed hundreds of other names and descriptions. After she was done there, she walked to the back of the room and turned the light on to the small room adjoining it.

Behold! There were more Breyers than I had ever seen in my whole life in there! But not just horses, but there were bulls, cows, dogs, buffalo, and unicorns, too! "Everyone," she spoke to the vast collection, "I would like for you to meet Lady Roxana." She held me up for all to see, and then my eyes met Sham's.

He was standing majestically on a top shelf in one of the bookcases; he was clearly well loved. Jamie took him down and introduced us, but I was not prepared for the thrill he gave my heart. She made a place on his shelf, then placed us side by side. "Welcome to Blackhawk Stables," Jamie told me a moment later. The place of miracles! I thought.

My life had taken a newer, higher direction. It's just one of those chance meetings that can turn your life around, and here I was, experiencing it for the first time. I believe in destiny, for that is what brought me to Sham. And here we stand, together, as one, on a top shelf in one of three bookcases full of Breyers. I know that I won't be put in danger like I was at my first home; now I can be comforted in the knowledge that I'll be here forever. I closed my eyes, taking in the sweet smell of new Breyers, and of Sham, my new companion. Then, I rested fully, finally home from my long journey.

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