A Hunter is Born

To tell this story, I have to start with another story. By the grace of God, I was born into an amazing family. I thank God daily for being blessed in that I was born where I was and to who I was. you see, my grandfather was one of Mississippi's earliest bowhunters.  He invented the pod to ensure the future of bowhunting. He was good friends with Fred Bear, the father of bowhunting. My grandmother was also an avid hunter who won the big buck award for the state of Mississippi. My mother is an excellent hunter as well as she has taken numerous deer with her bow and gun. My dad is probably the best hunter I know. Everything that made this story possible was because of my family. When I was 8, I joined my dad on a hunt and killed my first deer. My brother was also 8 when he killed his first deer. my wife also killed a few deer. So, there was never any doubt that Preston would follow the trend. I spent numerous hours talking to him about how important hunting is and the responsibility that goes along with it. He prepared well, shot the gun enough to be proficient and accurate. I taught him the importance of a clean, quick, ethical kill and he understood. Of course, safety is always first and he understood that as well. I also told him it was a heck of a thing to stop a beating heart so there was a responsibility that goes along with that, in that you make sure you utilize what you kill. So, after a couple of unsuccessful weekends, his mom, myself and Preston found ourselves again back in the blind to try to get him a deer. well, not long after daylight, a doe walked into shooting range, and like a pro, Preston settled his breathing and steadied his aim. He squeezed the trigger and made a perfect shot, the doe went down instantly. He was so proud and excited, as were his mom and I. We went to recover his deer and kneeled down to give thanks for the bounty. We cut it up and served it on the plate and enjoyed it as a family. I taught him that is the way God intended it and that's the reason the animals were put here. He understands and he cant wait to get another one. So, that day, November 27th, a hunter was born. Also special as that was the 25th anniversary of my grandma's death who I have no doubt was gleaming with pride as her passion has been handed down. The gun he killed his deer with is the same gun I bought my mom for Christmas a few years ago and the same gun his mom killed her first deer with. I am so proud of him and I look forward to many more years of hunting with my boys. That's what its all about. To this day, my favorite part of hunting is time at the camp with family. My best memories growing up were time spent in a tree stand with my dad and grandpa, and I hope my boys will feel the same way. I am so happy my parents were at camp to celebrate this with all of us as it is definetly a defining moment in a boys life when he takes his first kill. Next up is Easton!