"Dad, I want a bow and arrow." Those were the words from my son that led us down the road to me writing this.
It was three months ago, he and I had went to a friend of mines house. He's a good ol' country boy, lives a simple life. Nestled back into the small forest on the backside of his house. He has a small pond instead of a back yard. A heart full of love...and, well a broke down truck that I was there to get going for him.
It was while I was working on that truck that my boy, Evan, was introduced to traditional bows. I was under the hood of the truck when I heard, "Dad, what's this stuff?"
He had grown bored of chasing the chickens that run loose down there, and had taken time to notice some things in his surroundings. Specifically, some wood working hand tools laid around a work area nearby the truck.
I said, "Well my friend, Tony, makes bows." He looked at me sheepishly, in disbelief.
"You mean like the kind you can shoot? How can he do that?" He responded quickly and almost challengingly. He was six at the time and, like still today, knew everything.
Well Tony arrived shortly thereafter and quickly explained how it is that it's possible to turn a tree into a bow and some arrows. Evan sat enamored, listening with deep intent as this man explained the process.
Evan was touched, and a bit obsessed now. On the ride home he said those words, "Dad I want a bow." But he didn't just want a bow, he wanted to make it.
I told him I would talk to Tony and see if we could arrange a time for them to sit down together and make one. I called him later and we talked a couple different times about it.
However, life being as busy as it can be, we never found time and unfortunately a few months passed.
One evening, after a good day of school and work, Evan and I were playing in the backyard. I had received a call and was just finishing up when I heard,"Dad, look what I found."
I looked up from the phone and he had found himself, what was in his eyes, a perfect stick to make a bow from. He asked if I thought it would work. I told him with confidence, "It's at least a place to start."
He wanted immediately to go inside to begin work on it. He was done with outside. A small semi-forgotten ember had welled up in him. He was set on it. It's time to make a bow.
"Hey Dad, can I have a butter knife to skin the bark off. It's the first step."
With a sheepish grin, I turned to get him that knife....so it begins.
