Thank you. But.....please don't make us wait until next Christmas for the next installment....
My Friend,
OK, how about a New Year's present?
The Fawn.
By the way, these may look simple, but it takes countless hours for me to get the words and flow precisely correct. Commercial wordsmithing is way different than these attempts to totally capture a thought or experience.
God Bless,
Steve
THE FAWN
One summer day, when I was a kid in the Bitterroot Valley, I had an experience that was a watershed moment in my life.
I was riding on the Ford tractor with my grandfather. We were cutting the back quarter-section of high and lush alfalfa. It was kinda like riding a horse through a huge herd of sheep, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, a fawn, a cute little guy, suddenly jumped up in front of the long mower blade. He ran, but before my grandfather could slow down, the reciprocating blade cut off all four legs at the knees.
We stopped and got off the tractor. The sound of the fawns bleats still resound in my head.
My tough-tender granddad, the wizened old market hunter, got down on his knees in the middle of the field. He cuddled the fawn and the deer's blood ran down his pants and into the ground.
I'll never forget my granddad holding the fawn as tenderly as a spouse would hold the body of a dying loved one. Old Hank rocked the fawn back and forth, he whispered to it as the life-force quickly drained.
Then Hank looked at the sky, that impossibly blue Montana sky, tears streaming down his cheeks unashamedly. We both knew what had happened; it was unavoidable, it was so horrible.
Hank said, "I believe that when we go to Heaven, that we will be surrounded by all of the folks and the animals we love. Otherwise, why would we want to go? I hope that this little fella is right by my side when I get up there."
Nothing goes to waste on the farm, so ate the fawn for dinner the next evening.
And it was absolutely delicious.
by Steve .
