THE LAST CHRISTMAS

It was Christmas Eve Day. Christmas trees and decorations were in every room of the old house. Outside too. Torn wrapping paper was everywhere. It had been a good day.

The old couple stood at the door, hugging their family as they left. They would all be busy on Christmas Day, so they would not see them. The old couple was happy to have spent Christmas Eve with them. They all did remember to wish him a happy birthday in case they got busy and forgot to call him on Christmas Day.

They watched them out the window as they got into their cars and headed to their busy lives. Both had tears in their eyes. They talked for a while about Christmas memories from the many years of their marriage. Then, they cleaned up all the messes before they left for the Christmas Eve service at their church.

On the way home from church, he asked his wife what they were doing on Christmas Day. She said she planned to start packing away all the Christmas decorations. He said he thought he would like to take the old 30-30 rifle she got him for his Christmas/birthday present many years ago and go deer hunting. He told her he did not care if he got one. He just wanted to be out there doing what he had done for many years.

His wife wanted to talk him out of it, but she knew he needed this time alone with his thoughts. She told him to be safe, have a good time, and supper would be ready when he got home.

Christmas morning he leaned over to kiss her as she slept and whispered he loved her. He paused at the door to look back at her sleeping peacefully, then looked up and thanked God for her.

He sat alone at the base of a tree on Christmas morning. There was no one else out hunting on Christmas Day. They would soon be opening Christmas presents. He thought this was a great way to celebrate his birthday and the birthday of Jesus.

His mind took him back to his grandpa and grandma’s old farm. He was born there seventy-eight years ago. He also thought how much the world has changed since then. He thought about how many of his friends and family were no longer here.

He also thought about the times he messed up and made mistakes in life. He wished they had never happened. He wished he could take all of them back. He knew he could not. He knew God had forgiven him. He believed God gave him the gifts of writing stories and speaking to help others find Him. God had changed him.

Sunlight was beginning to filter through the trees. The frosted field spread out before him and sparkled like tiny diamonds. Fog rose from the creek on the other side. He could hear the sound of flowing water.

He held the old rifle in his lap. He loved that old gun. It had taken many deer in his life. He started thinking about the mountain men of long ago. He loved reading about that era of life in America and watching every Mountain Man movie ever made. Jeremiah Johnson was his favorite. He figured he had watched it at least fifty times or more. He often daydreamed about living back then. To have hunted and trapped and roamed the Rocky Mountains.

As he waited silently in the darkness, he thought about all the years he had been a deer hunter. Memories of deer hunting with sons and grandkids flooded his mind. Now, they are all busy with their lives and hunting in other states. It is just him, alone with his rifle. Is this the last time I will be a deer hunter, he thought to himself. He quickly dismissed that thought and looked out at the frosted field.

The sun rises over the top of the trees, crows talk to each other, birds fly from limb to limb, and squirrels look for acorns. A fox crosses the field and stops to scratch himself. He has seen and heard these things many times. He still loves all of it.

Getting a deer was always just a bonus to him. At times, he needed to get one to help feed his family. Being out in God’s great outdoors was most important. All the memories he made with family, friends, and alone in the deer woods were a bonus.

The old buck crossed the cold creek and then stopped at the edge of the woods. His eyes scan the field. He sniffed the air for danger. He was a wise old buck and had done this before. He had spent lots of years wandering this land. He had watched many of his family grow up here and die here. He turned his head to lick some scars, then slowly started walking into the field. He stopped at times to look and smell.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. Slowly, he raised his binoculars and brought the deer into view. It was a big buck. Old like him. Lots of gray around his muzzle. Broken antler tips, a little slump to his back, and a limp in his walk. He was also alone.

He put down his binoculars. The rifle stock now rested against his shoulder. He found the old buck in the iron sights and clicked the hammer back. The old buck heard the click and saw movement. He knew someone was there. He could have raised his tail and fled but did not. He slowly walked through the field.

After looking through the sights for several minutes at where he planned to shoot, the old man lowered the hammer back down and put the gun back in his lap. The old man and the old buck looked at each other for a while.

The old buck finally put his head down and kept walking. He was waiting for the old man to shoot. The shot never came. He stopped several times to look at the old man. Finally, he walked into the woods, never to return to that field. The old man turned his eyes toward heaven and thanked God for all his deer hunting memories, and the old deer on Christmas Day.

He stood up and paused to look around the valley he had hunted so many times over many years and walked toward his truck. It was his last deer hunt. It was his, and the old buck’s, last Christmas.