By Carl Harmon
-- Growing up in the Allegheny Mountains of Maryland, hunting was a way of life and survival. My passion was hunting white-tailed deer. As a young man, I was drafted into the army. Deer season was just about to come in, and though I had an eye on a couple of nice bucks, I knew I had to do my part and protect my country. I packed my stuff as my mom and dad assured me that there would be plenty of days to hunt when I got home.
While in the war, I thought of hunting deer to ease my mind of the pressures of war. I'll never forget the dream I had one night that I was deer hunting. I was walking down a hollow and noticed an old coal bucket lying halfway up the hill. Then all of a sudden, shots rang out on top of the hill. I looked up and saw a nice buck running down the hill. I took aim and fired, and the buck fell a few feet from the old coal bucket. When I awoke from my dream, I told some of my buddies in the war who also liked hunting, and we laughed about it.
A few months went by, and I was back at home. Deer season was just around the corner, and I was so excited. I got ready the first morning and headed out to hunt. I started down a hollow, and, to my surprise, I saw an old coal bucket lying on the side of the hill. Next thing, to my amazement, shots rang from the top of the hill. Just then, a nice buck came running just like in my dream. I fired my gun and the buck fell right beside the coal bucket. My dream had become real.
I sat and thanked God for the buck and for protecting me while I was in the army. I will never forget this as long as I live.
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