There is horsepower and then there is the power of a horse, and they indeed are different things.

Horsepower makes NASCAR racers roar around a track — and as countless commercials have demonstrated — makes pick-up truck owners take comfort in knowing that they could pull a really large boat, or perhaps something slightly more affordable, like a space shuttle.

But the power of a horse . . . well, apparently it can make a grown man dress up like George Washington. At least, that’s the way Candace Braksick figures it. It was the late 1990s, and Candace was helping organize a “Patriots Parade” near her rural Jefferson County home in McClouth, and she figured George Washington would be a good addition to the festivities. She could make the costume easy enough, but she needed a fellow to wear it, and a big white horse to carry our country’s first president.

A friend said he knew a guy in the area who had a big white horse, but Candace didn’t know him. So, she did the only logical thing.

“I called him up and said ‘I understand you have a big white horse, and would you be interested in being George Washington?'” Candace recalls. “There was a long pause, and then he said OK.”

Behold the power of a horse. After all, who wouldn’t want to ride a horse in a parade?

Lawrence was full of proud horse riders on Saturday for the 22nd Annual Downtown Lawrence Old-Fashioned Christmas Parade, one of the few all horse-powered parades in the country. Of course, Candace was there. She’s been there for all of the Lawrence parades, most years right behind George Washington, and more recently with her good friend Margaret Dick in the carriage seat beside her.

Together they make sure they are prepared for the many parades and rides they make together. Some of the preparations may surprise you, like making sure they don’t use Pledge on the carriage seat. Sure, it makes the wooden bench shine, but they remember watching a woman in her wagon take a corner fast at a state fair event. She slid right off the side, because someone — a man, they insist — had used Pledge on the seat beforehand.

Candace says her carriage received a light dusting, but no Pledge. (To my wife: I promise to never use Pledge on anything.)

Other preparations are more traditional. In this year’s parade, Candace had three rigs in the parade, and they all needed loaded. In the days leading up to the parade, friends of Candace, who has been a widow for the past four years, came over to help load the rigs onto the heavy-duty farm trailers that would haul them into Lawrence.

“It looks like we’re having a party,” Candace says as she looks at her driveway full of pickup trucks. “I’ve met a lot of great people doing this.”

Yet another power of horses: They tend to attract friends. That’s one of the reasons Candace had three rigs in the parade. She’s got more friends than her little surrey — a type of open-air carriage — can hold. Plus she has at least eight different carriages on the farm.

She and Margaret ride in the surrey, while another group of friends rides in a buckboard wagon, and yet another set rides in an authentic covered wagon. I do mean authentic. Hanging from the side is a wooden toolbox more than 150 years old, antique saws, hammers, a scythe, and just for good measure, a device the pioneers used to stretch possum skins.

“Possum, it’s not just for breakfast anymore,” one the men says as they examine the wagon secured on the trailer.

Of course, there’s also the horses. Margaret only provides one horse for the parade, but you couldn’t tell it by his size. To pull the surrey, she uses a Clydesdale, and it measures a good 17 hands tall.

“This is Stewart, and he’s excited to go to the parade,” Candace says as she brings him into the barn. “Really, he’s excited that I just bought a new bag of carrots.”

(In case you are wondering how Stewart eats a carrot, the answer is: in one bite. At least when I’m holding the carrot, because I’m not leaving my hand up there for a second bite.)

On this day, Stewart already has had his feathers — the white hair near his hooves — washed and dried. There is still talk of Candace braiding his mane and perhaps his tail. (When you are 17 hands tall, other horses don’t tease you about a braided tail, I’m guessing.)

“I don’t think of this as work, but there is a lot of activity involved to get ready for this,” Candace says.

And thousands are grateful for it. Organizers estimate close to 20,000 spectators attend most parades. Candace and Margaret say it is certainly the biggest parade they participate in each year. And while all of us along the sides of Massachusetts Street marvel at the horses and carriages, often the riders are taking time to notice all of us.

“Everybody says Merry Christmas,” Margaret says.

And what’s more amazing is that with thousands of people in downtown Lawrence, you can still hear people say it.

“It is neat how quiet it gets,” Margaret says. “I think everybody enjoys seeing the carriages and the horses, but I think they like hearing them too. There is just something about the sound of hooves on pavement — the rhythm and power of it — that is great.”

Everybody, it seems, has something they love about Lawrence’s Old-Fashioned Christmas Parade. For Candace she likes that it shines a spotlight on some beautiful animals.

“If you read history, you learn that horses were a big part of building this country,” she says.

But at the end of the day, as beautiful as horses are, a big part of this parade is still about people.

“I think my favorite part is that everybody is just so happy,” Candace says. “People are happy at a horse parade.”

Behold the power of horses.