Sports & Recreation
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In the meadows, swamps, and woodlots I traipsed through when but a child, I learned to be a sportsman,and hunt the creatures of the wild. Men I revered, taught me lessons as I grew out of my youth. There is a sportsman’s code of ethics and your final judge is you. These men, they all wore Woolrich. They dressed in hunter’s plaid. I cherish every lesson, as I do each hunt we had. They said hunters have a purpose, but the chase, it must be fair. No creature deserves to suffer,so I heed this hunters prayer: Lord if I choose to take a life, guide my arrow straight and true, or let me miss completely. The choice is up to you. If my arrow finds its mark, let death be quick without the pain. And should I fail to feel this way, don’t let me hunt again. If I don’t respect my quarry or my aim is less than good, I have no business hunting. I should not be in the woods. Break my fingers, take my eyes, numb my feet, I shouldn’t care. For if I’m not a sportsman I have no business there. Never shoot more than what’s needed. Never, ever waste the meat. Only hunt what is in season. Take no more than you can eat. These are rules that I must live by if Sportsman is what I call myself. If these rules I can’t abide by I’ll leave my weapons on the shelf. Lord give me the wisdom to hunt the way that’s right, so I don’t question my ethics as I go to bed each night. Thank you, Lord, for giving me the loving Mentors that I had. These men that all wore Woolrich and dressed in hunters plaid. D S Taylor |
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