The Tiny Works Story

Part 1: Why It Matters

Each of us has a story to tell, one that is uniquely our own. Each of us has experienced trials, trauma, and heartbreak. Each of us has also experienced moments of joy and comfort, moments we cling to during difficult times. I have often wondered what might happen if we took the time to share our stories with those around us. How many of us would find that we are not alone in our trials? How many of us would find hope and healing in knowing that others have felt what we feel, have endured what we endured, and overcome what we are trying so hard to overcome?

Life isn’t what we see on social media. It’s not staged photos, filters, or bathroom mirror selfies. I was born long before the first selfie, and I know that if we would all just take the time to listen to one another’s stories instead of trying so hard to appear to be something we’re not, we’d probably find we have much to learn from each other!

My own story is a big part of the birth of Tiny Works. Looking back, I can see how all the events and experiences in my story brought me to this point and gave me the resolve to bring Tiny Works into being. I believe that by sharing this story I can offer hope and healing to others who, at some point in their lives, have felt broken.

If you would like to learn more, read on through the rest of the tabs. And if you would like to contribute or become a part of our mission in any way, please click the Help Us Grow button at the top of the page.

Part 2: Discovering Therapy Animals

Feeling broken as a person can be the result of anything that separates us or makes us feel less than those around us. It can be disability, trauma, abuse, abandonment, the loss of a loved one, school bullying, even cyber-bullying on social media. Fortunately, healing is always possible. All of us feel these things at one time or another, and not all childhoods are remembered fondly. Just ask any adult who is in therapy.

As a child, I kept to myself, didn’t speak out of turn, didn’t really speak at all unless I was spoken to, never volunteered for anything in class at school… I just wanted to go about my existence without being noticed. I was also an only child of a single parent, and while my mother worked her hardest and did her very best to provide for and be there for me, I was still what we called a “latchkey kid” in those days. This somewhat solitary existence made it difficult for me to engage with other kids. The fact that I suffered from learning deficits and had chronic health issues that caused me to miss far more than my fair share of school days didn’t help me much either. And neither did being a victim of abuse, which was something I tried very hard to hide and even kept hidden from my mother. But no matter how hard I tried, I never felt like I fit in with those around me. I always felt as if I had a neon sign flashing over my head for everyone to see, announcing that I was the only kid in the world who carried the fears, worries, and pain that I felt. Everyone around me just seemed so whole, and so I felt different, like I could never fit in.

Breaking out of the victim cycle is a difficult task. It takes a lot of time, a lot of effort, and a lot of love from your support network. I didn’t have much of a support network to help me, latchkey kid that I was. Fortunately, I discovered a rather unusual support network in a very unexpected place. Looking back now, it seems only natural. I was so afraid of people, it just made sense that my support network would turn out to be the furry and feathery kind.

My love of animals goes as far back as I can remember. I was the kid that would go around the apartment complex rescuing all the stray cats. Sadly, the joke was on me. I was allergic to most animals, and especially cats, but that did not stop me from rescuing at an early age. My mom always smiled as I would bring home a new addition. Eventually I had to stop as my asthma became a huge concern and hospital visits were far too common.

My parents divorced when I was 3 years old. By the time I was 9 my father and his new family had moved to a tiny unassuming town in southern New Mexico. He bought a big plot of desolate desert land full of sagebrush and sand dunes and decided he wanted to become a cattle rancher. It was on my dad’s desert ranch during the summers of my childhood that I learned most of the lessons the animals had in store for me. This was my introduction to animal-assisted therapy. I didn’t have a therapist to help me through the abuse I suffered. I never told a single person until I got much older (a huge mistake), but the animals were such amazing listeners, such gifted healers of the heart and soul, that for a long time I didn’t really feel the need to share my feelings with people.

My therapy began with a few little ducks paddling around in the cows’ water trough, and a few chickens that eagerly snatched the seeds I offered them. I grew comfortable with them. I grew to love them, and they grew to see me as something beneficial to them. I guess you would call it a symbiotic relationship, but to me it was love. My favorite little bird was a bantam chicken that I named Oscar. My little feathered therapists loved and cared for me. I looked forward to getting up early to collect eggs. I felt safe with them. I felt needed. Most importantly, they didn’t judge me or make assumptions. When they saw me, they just saw me, whole and unbroken. They never saw my flashing neon sign.

Over the next several summers I would visit my dad and find that he had added new animals to the ranch, new therapists for me to try out! Oh, how I loved them all! I found so much joy in feeding all the different birds, rabbits, goats, pigs, and cows. Working on my dad’s ranch gave me purpose and slowly I grew in confidence. He gave me tasks that would scare me so bad that I’d want to run for the far-off hills to avoid them, but you just didn’t say no to my dad. He was one of those men who simply commanded respect. No one ever said no to Big Jim. Certainly not his timid and terrified little daughter.

So, I learned how to dehorn, castrate, and milk goats. I administered shots and bottle-fed milk to baby cows, helped build fences and animal pens, and chopped heads off rattlesnakes with my shovel… I even learned how to slaughter chickens and skin a pig, even though those last two caused many tears.

When I was 13 my dad let me purchase my own calf at auction so I could learn how a little cow could be a profitable business asset. I named him Chris after my first crush. I fed Chris, administered medications, tracked his growth, kept inventory of his daily food consumption, etc. And in the end, I made a profit on my calf. There were a lot of tasks I did not enjoy, and some that I even cried through when no one was looking. I had to be as brave… no, braver and stronger than my stepbrother. In so doing I learned about confidence, working hard, unconditional love, and most importantly that fear was my greatest enemy.

At the end of each summer, I took my experiences back to the city and my everyday life. I grew as a teenager, made more friends, laughed more, and was known by my peers, not as shy and timid, but as bubbly and outgoing. There was always and will always be a part of me that feels broken inside, but the animals helped me learn that feeling broken is not the same as being broken. Having the innocence of childhood stolen from you breaks the natural trust you have in those around you and in the world at large, but it doesn’t have to define you as a human being. I’ve learned to live with all my broken pieces and accept them for what they are – just life’s scars. Today I still find comfort, safety, and refuge with animals of all shapes and sizes, whether I’m talking face to face with a horse, snuggling one of our dogs, or watching hummingbirds drink nectar from my trumpet vines.

God designed relationships between humans and animals to be mutually beneficial. Animals can provide us with friendship, love, loyalty, and a complete lack of judgement. Having someplace safe to go and be with the animals on my dad’s ranch changed the course of my life and enabled me to become the person I am today. In moments of fear or depression I still revisit those memories, and I still find great comfort there. These changes led me to a wonderful husband, with whom I have three beautiful children. I even gained the confidence to go back to school and finish my college degree at age 38. I learned to manage my learning disabilities instead of giving in to them and even graduated Summa Cum Lauda and at the top of my class.

My dad passed away in 2008. I will never know if he knew just how much those summers on his ranch changed me and healed me. I will always be so grateful that he believed in me enough to hand me the hard tasks that helped me grow and find my confidence. And I will forever be indebted to all the ducks, chickens, rabbits, goats, pigs, cows, and especially Oscar and Chris, who served as my personal therapists as well as my closest animal friends.

Tiny Works is my effort to extend the joy and healing I received to others who are going through their own kind of suffering. I know the power of animals to heal us, to make us more whole, and I want to share it with the world.

Part 3: Preparing for Tiny Works

My husband and I met when we entered a training program for a new job on the same day. We were learning how to provide full-time care for adults with profound physical and mental disabilities. I think what struck us both was watching each other interact with these beautiful people, growing to love them as we cared for them, even when those tasks were far from what most people might consider pleasant. For both of us, I think it was almost a second-nature type of thing to feel and understand the person beneath the encumbrances of a body that had no power to express the thoughts or emotions the rest of us take for granted. Providing daily care for them wasn't so much a job as it was an act of service and love.

Over the next several years we found ourselves working in similar capacities on a regular basis, whether it was working as weekend house-parents for groups of abused or neglected children, or for me, teaching at a high school exclusively for special needs teens.

We both found ourselves at various times working with the children and youth of our church, no matter where we lived, we seemed to end up serving in the same capacities, and loving every minute of it. My husband likes to joke about the day he was first asked to minister to the young men of our church. He was driving home from grad school and was run off the road by an inattentive teen driver. He had some choice words for the driver (who sped away seemingly unaware of what had happened), and when he arrived home he loudly declared his abhorrance of teenagers. God must have taken his words as a challenge, because it wasn't even an hour later that he was asked to accept a calling to minister to the young men of the church, ages 12 to 18. In his head he was thinking, "Oh, Lord, you have got to be kidding me, right?" But his unthinking response to the request was, "I'd love to." And I don't think there has ever been anything he's loved more.

Like my husband, I was asked to minister to the young women of the church on multiple occasions, and, in like manner, I feared the horror that lies beneath the bubbly surface of teen girls. And still today the time I spent with all my girls are some of my fondest memories.

You see, what my husband and I both learned - beginning with the beautiful spirits inside those profoundly limited and crippled bodies and on through our ministry with the youth - is that there is no greater calling, no greater joy that can be obtained, than that which comes through the service of others. Of course, isn't that what Jesus was really getting at when He said, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me" (Matthew 25:40, KJV)? He was telling us all to serve one another, because that service was really our best way of serving Him.

Our service to children and adults, and particularly those with special needs, didn't stop with our jobs or church ministry. All three of our children were born with certain disabilities as well. Our first child suffered from significant developmental delays throughout her childhood, and our other two children both inherited Tourette's Syndrome, which runs rampant in my husband's family. I believe God meant for us to learn all we could about serving His special needs children, and so we were blessed with three of our own.

I’ve spent the last 30+ years working with and serving people with disabilities, particularly children, and I've learned that it’s in such people where so many beautiful things reside. When I went back to school to continue my education I chose to study child development and early intervention. I wanted to learn how I could serve better, whether for my own children or for others I would someday meet. The lessons I learned in school have proven to be of tremendous value. (I have to give a shout out here to the truly incomparable faculty at Appalachian State University in Boone, NC.) A lot of the things we learn in school tend to slip away over time. But other things, maybe it's the really important things, those become part of you. They help make you who you are, or in my case, who God wanted me to be.

Part 4: From a Texas Highway

Why are we called Tiny Works?

Brady and a Southdown Miniature Babydoll Sheep

That's a valid question, and I'll answer it here because I'm sure it will come up over and over again. The name actually came from our son. We were on a road trip driving down a Texas highway near the city of Tyler. At the time we were looking for a place to open a new computer-programming school my husband and I were starting, but I think we spent more time just admiring the beautiful farmlands of east Texas and brainstorming about what we might do with a little bit of land of our own. This led to a variety of ideas, and one in particular piqued our interest - a sort of petting zoo where children with special needs could enjoy learning about and being with farm animals, but because farm animals are huge and scary to little children, we figured there had to be miniature versions of farm animals that might work well. (As it so happens, there are!)

Our son, who I believe was 13 or 14 at the time, blurted out, "Since all the animals are miniature, we should call it Tiny Works!"

And with that declaration, the initial idea of Tiny Works was born, and quickly became a pet project for our son. It led him to a fascination with and immense love for farm animals, especially sheep, and to pursue a career in the veterinary industry. Tiny Works is every bit as much a part of him as it is me.

It's worth noting that as of the writing of this post, we are awaiting the arrival of four Southdowne Miniature Babydoll lambs next spring, the first of Tiny Works' animals, and the beginning of our son's flock and his hobby as a shepherd. I'll post pictures when they arrive, along with regular updates as we continue to learn and grow as farmers ourselves. But most importantly, I'll post our experiences, thoughts, and feelings as we explore how these little animals can benefit those who seek the services Tiny Works can provide.

This project is a labor of love for all of us, and a declaration of gratitude to God. He has made it possible, and it is our prayer that He will continue to lead Tiny Works in the service of His children.

Part 5: To the Arizona High Country

We originally imagined Tiny Works being in Texas. So you can imagine our surprise when nothing we tried to do in Texas worked out. So we accepted the notion that perhaps God had other ideas that we hadn't yet discovered. So rather than settling in Texas, we found ourselves moving around the country like Gypsies for a time. We made our way through Texas for a little while, then spent a year or so in the mountains of Utah before rolling back across the contry and dropping ourselves in Florida for several months. It was there that we finally discovered where we wanted to open that school I mentioned in the last post.

Sometimes we get so focused on an idea, or on something we want so badly, that we fail to hear God speaking to us, trying to give us direction and lead us to what He has in store. When we don't hear Him, but it's incredibly important that we do, sometimes He takes drastic action.

We had arranged a location and facility for the school. We found a partner who was willing to invest money in the project. We had lined up a lucrative contract for our other company that could help sustain the school as it got underway. We were only days from launching an online marketing campaign and scheduling our grand opening. That's when the rug was yanked out from under us.

Within a single week, our investor backed out, citing concerns within one of his other companies that needed his full attention. Our new contract, that could have still enabled us to open with our partner, suddenly fell apart. And then we got a call that my mother had cancer and was going to have emergency surgery to try to remove it.

Suddenly the school didn't seem so important. So we abandoned the project and dashed back across the country to Arizona. Sadly, the surgery didn't go well and my mother passed away on August 30, 2018. As we reflected on what brought us here, we came to recognize God's hand in the journey, and we realized what a blessing it was for us to be here. You'll never know just how important sunlight is until you're grieving the loss of a loved one, and you feel those beautiful rays of light on your face every morning, and you feel hope. Thank you, Arizona!

Over the next couple of years we began exploring this amazing state, and when we happened upon the White Mountains area of the Arizona high country, we simply fell in love. It soon became clear to us that this was where God had been trying to lead us all along. We were just a little hard of hearing. This was where Tiny Works needed to be.

So we bought 40 acres of land and slowly set about putting things in motion. It has been a very long and very difficult process, but when you know that you're doing God's work, you know He has a plan for you. All you have to do is listen and follow it. So here we are. We are about to open our doors for the first time...

Come visit us soon. We can't wait to share Tiny Works with you!