But please, do not misunderstand. I know how this must sound. I am an older mare now, and I fear I have inherited, despite my best efforts, some of my father’s awkward and stilted speech patterns. If meaning has eluded you, let me make things clear, one last time.
Argyle came to us by sea. He gave us his notes, his smile, and his dream of a better world. More than that, he gave us a glimpse into that dream, and all it cost me was everything.
But I loved him anyway. I could not help it, you understand. Your father was simply a pony you had to love, for if you did not, then there was nothing in you but a terrible, wintry draft that billowed through the emptiness of your soul. If I had not loved him, then I doubt I could have kept going for all these many lonely years.
I do not regret meeting him. Neither did my father. I hope your father did not regret meeting us, either, even if it resulted in the banishment of living memory and the unobstructed death of the old ways of thinking.
Not that this meant I banished him entirely from my mind. I’ve thought about him, all these years. He was a constant presence, a warm voice, that traveled with me when I finally decided to rebuild the shop, that comforted and reassured me when I was uncertain as to whether I should keep it the same or change it into what you now see. I could never forget his living ghost, the one that had told me about the secret of the world and the hope for a better tomorrow.
When I heard he died, I wondered if his dream had died with him. Now, though, seeing you stand before me, I realize dreams do not die with their dreamers. If the dream is good enough, then one way or another it will live on—and if we are lucky enough, it may even come true. We need only to reach out and choose to make them real—but you already know that, don’t you?
Good.
Then, please. Why don’t you and your friends step into Maple Craft’s Workshop? There is much I want to show you, and much, I am sure, you would be interested in. Don’t worry: here, all dreams are allowed, even the least likely ones. Those are the kinds that brought Argyle to us, and now, I see, you to me.
Yes… You have your father’s spirit, his passion, his hope…
The End