When I was a young mother, I never seemed to have enough time. Christmas was upon us, and I was once again struggling under all the extra work that falls on the homemaker during this season of peace and goodwill. “Please, Mama, please! Won’t you please come with us quail hunting? Dad says all he wants for Christmas, is for you to join us in the woods.” For someone as cold natured as I was, the idea was less than appealing. Tramping around in the fresh-fallen snow didn’t sound like fun to me. Besides, didn’t they understand all the last minute’s chores that needed to be finished if we were to be on time at their Grandparents later that day? But the look in my sons’ faces wouldn’t allow me to disappoint them so close to Christmas morning.
So off we went to the farmer friend’s pastures where Jim had permission to hunt. Rueben, our German Shorthaired Pointer had been trained by a world class trainer, and he was quaking with anticipation. As part of the family, he rode in the back seat with the boys who were bragging about how this time, Dad would let them shoot.
Out of the old car, we tumbled onto the frozen, snow-covered pasture. Jim gave the boys their instructions once again on why they had to stay behind him, where they could go, and how they needed to provide Rueben with time to find the birds. The command to “Hunt them up” was given to our bird dog and off the boys went. I stayed in the shelter of the car for a while as Jim told me we would be out there for hours.
I heard them in the distance, the happy chatter of two young boys trying their best to be quiet. I walked crunching through the snow, hoping that they would “catch” something soon so that I could return to my warm house and chores. Finally, I stopped thinking about all my business and looked around at all the beauty of the woods, covered with fresh powder, and the red bird’s bright coat against the too bright blue sky. I came up to my little group as they worked Rueben down a hedgerow. Jim turned, and when I looked into my husband’s face, God blessed me with my Christmas miracle. Jim, the hardworking man who carried so much pressure on his shoulders, was transformed into a young boy again! All the worry lines vanished. This happy boy was reliving the times he went hunting with his dad, now taking his sons out quail hunting. What a moment! Gone was all desire to be busy with work. This moment, right now, I needed to breathe in all the joy, all the happiness my boys were having just by spending time together as a family. Rueben got on point, the birds were flushed out, and my mighty hunter bagged the game.
I can close my eyes and still see his youthful face, his eyes shining with pure pleasure. Hunting on Christmas Eve morning became an annual tradition for the May household. They would all tease me when we got home, as the first thing I did was call Rueben and he would jump into my lap for me to rub his paws and treat his scratches. No one can convince me that hunting and fishing aren’t remarkable ways to make some of the best family memories. You can find all the supplies you need to start your family traditions at your local Buchheit.
Merry Christmas! May you all receive a Christmas miracle this year! Be richly blessed by our loving Savior. Christmas hugs! Anne May
