by Peter Twitchell
Merry Christmas and remember Jesus is the Reason for the Season. Give thanks everyday we’re here.
As I look back to my childhood, I was disappointed in man. I sat on Santa’s lap when I was 8 years old and Santa asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I told Santa point blank, I want skis and a train.
The next morning in 1958, as soon as I awoke I looked under the Christmas tree. What happened to Santa I wondered. Did he lose his way, did he run out of toys?
I ran outside to see if Santa had been around the house? The fresh layer of snow did not have any signs that Santa and his reindeer were ever at our house!
That Christmas my aunt Elsie Orcutt sent me through the United States Postal Service a plastic rabbit with three wheels, and a two foot plastic shotgun in a double barrel configuration with two plastic bullets with suction cup stickers.
Toys were made sturdy back then. I enjoyed that toy for the next three years. The rabbit rolled across Mom’s wooden floors. That toy taught me right away how to lead any animal or bird which was flying. In essence, I became an expert marksman and always hit rabbits, ptarmigan, and ducks with a .22 rifle.
All my life being a subsistence hunter and fisherman ignited me. It became my passion, and for that I give Jesus Christ of Nazareth the glory!
And like Mary who gave birth to Jesus Christ I came from a simple background. I wasn’t born into a famous family name or royalty. We weren’t rich and well-to-do but we were rich in our Native culture, our value system, and God.