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Outdoor Truths by Gary Miller;gary@outdoortruths.org

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               I’ve always prided myself on trying anything once. Now that doesn’t mean that I throw all caution to the wind and do things like swim with alligators, but generally I’m game for giving something a first shot. This especially goes for food unless its worms, bugs, and slugs.  That’s where I draw the line.  Over the years I’ve made my way through the lines of many wild game dinners. I’ve eaten everything from turtle to buffalo. I’ve also tasted my share of seafood. I love crab legs, but I’ve also tried a few squid as well. And then there’s the common pig. If you live in the south you’ve heard that when it comes to a pig, you can eat everything but the squeal. If you can’t fry it then pickle it and somebody will eat it. I’d just like to have been with the first person who cut a pig’s ear off and said, “I wonder what that tastes like?” The good thing about all of this is that nothing is going to waste and that all parts are deemed important.

               As I sit in my chair at my computer, I look at the wall in front of me. There in a frame is a turkey feather. Not the turkey but a feather of the turkey; and not one of the long beautiful tail feathers but one of the shorter, less attractive ones. What makes this feather of value is that someone has painted a beautiful picture of a gobbler in full strut right in the middle of it. They have made the unimportant important and the worthless of value. They have taken the lesser part of the turkey and turned it into one that’s desirable.

               Sometimes we think that our contribution to mankind is of no value. We think that because our worth or beauty is not seen immediately that it must not be very important. That couldn’t be further from truth. Nothing that God has created is meant to go to waste. He has given all of us worth. He has deemed all of us important. Some in life may be considered part of the plumage. They may, seemingly, be more beautiful and noticeable than others. But tell me what would that old tom do if he had all of his long beautiful tail feathers and was bald everywhere else? Those twenty-some feathers may look good to us but on a cold rainy day I’m sure he had rather have those hundreds of little ones that keep him warm and dry.


Gary Miller


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