He lay in bed a little longer today, pulling the quilt under his chin, which hadn't seen a razor in years. He mentally went over whether he had taken care of all his chores from yesterday and remembered he had one more thing to finish. He woke up quickly as soon as his feet hit the cold floor. He put on a pair of socks and slipped his feet into a pair of slippers his daughter had given him last Christmas.
He added a few pieces of wood to the stove's embers and fanned them until the wood caught fire, knowing warmth would soon arrive, just as the bitter cold had during the night. He wasn't much of a coffee drinker; he preferred teas made from the abundance of plants he found in the forest. He heated some water and, while waiting, placed a few strips of bacon into a cast-iron skillet handed down to him by his mom long ago. She had told him that if he kept the skillet greased and never washed it with soap, it would last both their lifetimes and beyond.
He had always enjoyed breakfast and insisted on making it, even if it was just for him and the scraps for his little friends in the forest. When the bacon was cooked to his liking, he drained the grease into a jar, leaving a coating to fry up three eggs. He removed the cloth cover from the remaining biscuits he had made the day before and warmed them on the stove until the butter melted.
With his tea brewed and everything ready, he said a blessing and dove into his favorite meal of the day. Once finished, he cleaned the skillet and hung it on the wall next to other pots and pans. He spread out the cloth, filling it with a single biscuit left uneaten and a couple of strips of bacon he couldn't finish. He dressed warmly, put the cloth sack into his pocket, and headed outside into the harshness of a winter's day.
His trail was covered with fresh snow, but he knew his way around the forest and the sixteen acres of land he had bought nearly thirty years ago. After trudging through the swaying pines and white birch trees, he came to a fallen tree, where he sat down. He reached into his pocket, retrieved the cloth filled with goodies, and set it next to him to wait.
A squirrel was the first to arrive, followed by a smaller-than-normal red fox. They approached him slowly until they were close enough to take the morsels from his hand. With a gesture of song, they disappeared back into the forest to share their bounty with others. But he remained sitting for a while, knowing one more creature would present herself when she was ready, not until then.
He took an apple from his pocket and, with his knife, began slicing the juicy fruit into strips while watching for any movement behind the safety of the forest. It didn't take long, and she showed herself to him, slowly making her way toward his outstretched hand, holding the strips of juicy apple. With the grace of a ballerina, she took the offering from him, but she didn’t run off immediately; she stood inches from him, gazing into his eyes for what seemed like a long time before retreating to her place among the others.
Once back at his cabin, he went into the root cellar and filled the cloth bag with a dozen apples and as many carrots. He gathered other treats, such as nuts and stalks of celery, until the bag was full. Then, he set it aside until tomorrow, when something special would occur.
He rose early the next day and checked the calendar hanging on the wall to confirm he had the right day. He did; it was Christmas Day. He hurried that morning, skipping his tea and eating only a single biscuit as he headed back to the fallen tree.
Before long, the wonders of nature crept silently towards him, in numbers that surprised him: a dozen squirrels, a family of red foxes, some rabbits, and even a porcupine with her babies. But the sight that amazed him most was the doe who had her two fawns with her. She nudged them forward until he could touch their velvet noses while handing them some treats.
By his count, there were over two dozen animals from the forest who came to Christmas dinner that day and every Christmas thereafter. Oh, and that last chore he needed to do was open the box of sugar cubes that each little one would receive as a gift, while the mothers watched and met his gaze in a gesture of thanks and friendship.
Mike 2025
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