Silent Night

     More Letters From Paradise
          Silent Night

Christmas was only a few days away and we did not yet have a tree.  The simple reason was that we didn't have any money to buy one. It was my first year teaching school and I had 47 seniors as students in my government and history classes. My wages were so small and there were no benefits. My mother, who was also a teacher, often said that teachers were the "gentile poor." I returned home one day after school to find a pile of ten pheasants outside our door.  And this was not hunting season for pheasants. This gift was very welcome and pheasants are easy to clean. They were deposited in the empty echo- filed deep freeze.
      A couple of days later I found a large pine tree standing outside our backdoor. I learned later that one of my students had gone into the state forest,  climbed up in a large pine, and cut off the top. This was the origin of our tree that Christmas. Every time while out hunting I saw that pine with its spreading arms and missing top, and I felt guilty.
      I went with my friend Ellis to see a man who had a large flock of sheep. While we were there I saw a lamb that was having problems breathing. The man said that I could have the lamb if I wanted. "He will probably die anyway." I felt that maybe I could save him. I returned home with the lamb and tried my best to keep him alive. But, in spite of all the love and care I gave him, he died. It was the Christmas season and snow lay deep over the frozen ground. I am not ashamed to admit that with my tear-filled eyes, I carried the lamb in my arms to the edge of the woods. I left it there on the snow in the deep darkness, with  only the stars to keep him company.

         Aloha
         Grant