Golden Apples I walked through the first darkness; the trees in stark contrast to a sky full of clouds. My nighttime hike to check for deer in the north woods took longer than I anticipated. After the heat of August and September, I like the cool days of December. Some fake snow fell among the bare branches. I hurriedly made the dead leaves crunch under my feet, their scent rising like perfume. Tomorrow was Christmas. I had never lost the excitement or wonder of the day. The anticipation of Christmas makes my heart beat faster even though I am an adult child. The cool air was refreshing but the temperature dropped 10 degrees in the last hour. The cold begins to seep into my thick clothes. The stream above the hill flows quickly to escape the ice that forms at its edges. A race he will soon lose. In April the water flows fast and furious. Today it's a quick trickle that barely covers the soles of my rubber boots. On the hill to my right, a coyote howls at the invisible moon. His brothers' counters from my elevator. Both hidden by the brush. Even though I know that coyotes rarely attack humans, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I quicken my pace. Dipping below the horizon the sun assures me of a beautiful day when it rises. The north wind tells another story, its breath heavy with snow. Maybe tomorrow we will wake up to the sight of a pristine white world. There is nothing more peaceful than a silent snowstorm whose flakes float gently to cover the imperfect land. Each bow resembles people of a different design. At the back of the house, birds huddle around the feeders. Each was worth… half the paper… destitute individuals. Every investigation always ended in a dead end. A conservative estimate was that the donor had donated around twenty million over the years. My wife and I continue the philanthropic work begun by James Denver and Sarah Ann Aikman in 1910. Each year we take an apple and sell it through a private organization. The money is then given as indicated in the note. At this time we have given away several apples, but there are still eight in the bag. And so once again God has proven His word to be true. He who has mercy on the poor lends to the Lord; and what he has given he will repay. 'Oh, and the gold coins? We've spent over a hundred and there's still thirty left in the bag. Our reward for doing what the Lord asked. Merry Christmas