Tis' the hunting season

When it comes to hunting, I've never really been around it. I mean my Uncles hunt, some of my friends hunt, and my Grandpa hunts, but I've never been in the scene. When hunting season comes around to accompany the Christmas season here in the Hancock area, every breath breathed and word shared is pretty much either deer or cheer, if you know what i'm saying. No one was home for the first four days of the week. The wooded roads were lined with scattered empty trucks, gunshots fired at least every 30 minutes near us, but not very few souls were contacted in those days. I've never experienced a culture so entwined with hunting before.

Along with the absence of humans, an absence of pretty much all other living creatures besides the mooing cows and croaking ravens created an eerie silence for Elder Tausaga and i to proselyte in. Mist and fog engulfed us no matter if we were in the valleys or mountains, like a dream was wrapping us around. Elder Tausaga is obsessed with fog, though. He gets out and runs around and smiles the biggest smile. We probably have the most character of any companionship I've met so far xD

Half way through the week Iwe were feeling exhausted and out of ideas to find people. With almsot all members and non-members out in the forests, we were at a teaching stand still. Humbled and a little bit lost on top of a mountain, Elder Tausaga and i knelt down and said a prayer to lead us to someone who needs help, and to guide us for improvements. Immediately we had the impression to go back down the mountain sides to the rail road the passes through the area. Down we traversed until we ran into the railroad that ran perpendicular to the Potomac river, a clouded fog still hanging around us.  Walking by the banks we discovered a tarp hung over in a make-shift shelter. Not quite sure what to expect, I asked, "Anyone home?" 

An old man wearing a bicycle helmet and torn trench coat emerged from the shelter with tears in his eyes and a toothless smile. It was very clear that this man was a homeless alcoholic, but we made out from his slurred language that he was wanting to die when suddenly he heard my voice. He went on the give us both hugs with tears falling down. We tried to communicate with him for his name or how we could help him out, but after hugging us he bent down beside the shelter, picked up an old bicycle, and walked it along the train tracks into the fog.

I have no idea who that man was or what became of him, but what I do know is the warmth that filled my heart with the tears in our eyes and the life giving hug clasped. So far this Christmas season we have discovered that Christ-like love cannot be summarized in statistics or seen from afar. The real gift of charity is felt in the moment given. That experience is shown through the Savior's love as a constant outreach to us if we only open our arms to receive it. Oh man is the season meant for love.

xoxo

Elder Burgess