 She won’t run with the "in" crowd or those who think of themselves as ‘all that’ - apparently that’s grade school hip for too cool. She’s not ‘all tomboy’ but says she’d like to be, with a mischievous smile on her face and turns to see if I give her the look. She is growing up too fast for my comfort and once in a while she even asks, "Mommy do I have to grow up?" It’s not that I want my child as an adult dependent at the age of 30, but I do not look forward to that day of separation. Someone reminded me a few months ago when she turned nine that I will only have about nine more years to enjoy with her at home before she goes out into the world as a young adult. Those words are still a little sharp to a mother’s heart. We have our moments when I struggle to remember which one of us is the child and which one is the adult! For me, being a mother is one of the most incredible gifts God gives and one of the most difficult journeys to walk. I love sharing all the exciting things her day brings her and I have to admit I even like the independence she exercises in not sharing certain things. In the mix of secrets, clothing choices, and that awful wonderful subject of boys, is emerging a young lady who is in part (the good part I hope) a reflection of her mother. This little one is now too big to be rocked to sleep though she continues to call for me at bedtime to give hugs and be the first to speak the words of our favorite game: "I love you, BUT I love God more." Oh those precious QUIET moments at night when she sleeps; thankfully they are followed by another day filled with her voice. So when I look at what time has already taken from us, it is a blessing to share in the moment that awakens her consciousness of wanting to learn how to use a shotgun and the anticipation of her first turkey hunt.
 On the first sound of number four exploding from the end of the new youth model pump Remington 870 Express Magnum, Jessi asked, "When is it my turn?" Ignoring her insistence, I stooped to pick up ejected shells and explained that we remove our spent shotgun shells and gave her the job of filling her pockets with these discards. That was not what she had in mind and she sighed heavily. My husband smiled and I sighed too, then hoping for the best I smiled thinking it might be contagious and infect the frown on her face. Impatiently, she waited to take the next step of growing into a hunter. Her first introduction in shooting lessons began last year when we took her to the gun range and instructed her in target practice with a 22-rifle. Stacy, my husband surprised us recently with this 20-gage Remington youth shot gun, for the up and coming spring turkey season. We’ve whispered the possibility of her participation in this year’s spring turkey youth hunt and this shotgun will make it possible for her to do so. The youth stock will also be more comfortable for me as a small-framed short-armed hunter, and is a much needed replacement for an aging hand-me-down shotgun that let-me-down in the former season, but that’s a story I’ll tell another time.
 In spite of her upside down smile, Jessi began to enjoy herself and even asked me why the shells were now empty. After explaining to her that pulling the trigger made the firing pin hit the brass end of the shell with enough force to light the powder and send the shot out the end of the barrel toward what you aim at, she seemed to understand that was what made the loud sound. Still anticipating her turn, she watched her daddy and I through every shot and then asked, "Is it going to kick when I shoot it?" Her father told her, she would just feel a hard push against her shoulder, but it wouldn’t hurt. Unlike her 22-rifle target shoots which were at a range with shooting tables and a place to clip paper targets, this outing was truly in the field. Down on her knees for support she rested the 20-gauge on daddy’s leg and listened to his instructions. I know she wanted to hold her ears like she had when watching her father and I shoot, but her independence finally won out as she released the safety and touched the trigger all by herself. She hit her mark and though the repercussion only stunned her she wasn’t sure of the new gun just yet. I took my shot using number six to show her the difference in the pattern size compared to the number 4 shells. When it was time, she welcomed another turn with the gun without hesitation and was obviously more comfortable with it after firing several more rounds.
This afternoon of instruction was as much a continued education for me as it was for Jessi. With little more than basic hunter education and target practice under my belt I have hunted for years with both rifle and shotgun. In the first few years I hunted, I never had the desire to know more than necessary or research beyond the gun or the box of shells placed in front of me by my husband. With my need to get a reliable gun for turkey hunting after several seasons of unsuccessful gun hunting I entered various online forums and read books to start my shotgun education, but still I lacked the basic understanding of shooting different gauge firearms. Having the fortitude of friends and family who were willing to lend different gauge shotguns helped me decide what I can comfortably hold and shoot, and what shells are best suited for use with them. My first lesson involved a 12-gauge Benelli, while firing a turkey load I was knocked back with the force of 30-year-old powder packed into a three-inch magnum. Apparently with age the contents of a shotgun shell can expand, causing more of a repercussion than that of a newer shell of comparable size. Now that’s what I call a shotgun education!
 In between the day’s events of practiced shots and recovering the spent shells Jessi found another smile. All it took was the question of whether or not she still wanted to go hunting in the spring 2004 Missouri Department of Conservation youth turkey hunt. Thrilled with the news of going on her first turkey hunt, she commented whether she would get one or not and then her daddy suggested that she should practice next time using a forked stick to steady the gun, so that she will be able to accomplish the turkey hunt with her own skills. We could barely keep pace with her walking back to the truck when we finished that day. Her excitement for this spring’s hunt is building and with each shooting experience her confidence will build up childlike anticipation for the arrival of that special day when she gets to go hunting for the first time with her new shotgun. In addition to a shotgun I am blessed to share with my daughter, is the privilege of taking part in and watching her grow into a hunter.
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