We met her on a February afternoon. Sara was standing in the snow. It didn’t rain anymore that day, but the sun doesn’t reach such places anyway. She obediently followed us behind the farm. She walked step by step, panting heavily, head bowed. She walked like a convict – to meet destiny. She hadn’t even noticed that no one raises the voice and the whistle of the whip does not cut through the air.

The snow creaked under our shoes. When we stopped by the road, she finally lifted her head and looked at us with those huge beautiful eyes you want to drown in. Until suddenly you notice a great sea of pain inside. But it’s too late. You’re drowning.


And you see something you don’t want to see. All that Sarah has experienced. Although no one asked if she wanted to. You see her tight, stiff legs that were faithful though they could not have been for a long time. You see her arched spine carrying more than it should have been. You can feel her heartbeat, which was beating not for those it should be beating for. But the heart is not a servant …

Finally, you also see those looks of expectation and contempt. Until you see how, over the years, these gazes have filled with indifference. And when Sarah was embraced by old age, this indifference passed judgment. The people she loved turned away. The gangplank dropped impassively. She walked in without opposition. She knew it was for nothing.

And so the old mare Sara from the depths of Lithuania came to eastern Poland. Only to die.

I come closer, listen to how hard she breathes. I look into her eyes, but they avoid me. She doesn’t want to trust anyone anymore. Love it too. He moves away from me, stubbornly stares at the snow, or just straight ahead. I do not know. I have the impression that she doesn’t care about anything anymore. I stroke her ears for a moment, then rub her cool neck and look where she is. I don’t know what she sees in the snow. Is it Lithuania, does she look for grass breaking through the snow, or is she just waiting for those who are to execute the sentence – they will do it and Sara will stop suffering.

We lead her away, she stands by her wall, bows her head meekly so that the host fastens the chain. As we walk away, I look back once more. And for a split second I get the impression that Sara is staring at me with pleading eyes. But after a while she hangs her head again. And I don’t really know if she was looking at me or if she was reaching behind the ajar door, behind which spreads the world that she wants to say goodbye to.

But as I left, I promised Sara that we would come back for her. Because collective transport to a slaughterhouse she may not survive. I promised that although I would never take her to Lithuania, maybe – before she leaves forever – she will run out to our native meadows reaching up to the horizon. And if someone up there allows it, they will also see the snow creaking under the hoofs. the next year snow.

Sara’s life and transport are PLN 8,700 (2190 USD). We have time until February 16th. Without you, all the action for her has no chance. You are her last hope.


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