A moral to the story

When I was a youngster, 6 years old to be exact, I too, like Ralphie from A

Christmas Story, wished for an official Red Ryder, carbine action, 200-shot, range model air rifle. Yet I got a “Crosman” BB/pellet gun instead.

This gun was actually a little better and had some killing power, and in my head, it was time to hunt. Before getting this birthday gift, hunting was fairly difficult with a slingshot. I opened the gift at the park and I was off to the woods—yes—all alone and armed with more than a “pea shooter.” The birds better watch out.

That day, I came back empty-handed, but it would not be long before I finally got my first bird. Upon it falling to the ground from the electric high wire, I went from ecstatically proud and triumphant to bitterly sad and empathetic. What had I done to this poor animal and why? It was not a fun game anymore, but a serious tragedy. I placed it in a shoe box, dug a large hole and had a funeral for the black bird.

Still to this day, I hunt larger game with larger rifles and still feel the same each time I take a life—saddened, and empathetic. I am glad that I learned to hunt, shoot, and to care for all life. I am also glad that Ralphie really did not shoot his eye out, or anyone else’s eye. Classic movie, classic rifle, and classic moral to this story! What happened, as I am not that old?

SHANE HAMPTON

Fayetteville