Christmas for Axel

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Bryce Angell – The outdoors has always been a large part of my life. My father was an outfitter and guide for 35 years and I was there to shoe and care for the horses and help him do the cooking. We took many great trips into the Yellowstone area. Even now that I’m older, we still ride into the Tetons, Yellowstone and surrounding areas. My poems are mostly of personal experience. I am now retired and enjoying life to the fullest. I plan to do more riding and writing.

Axel thought of Christmas, then he tossed a frozen bale.  The cowhand had no fam’ly.  He was fresh, right out of jail.

Christmas wasn’t Axel Harker’s favorite time of year.  He lived out in the bunkhouse and he needed winter gear.

The foreman’s wife loved Christmas.  She could mother anyone.  She taught the cowboys ‘bout the birth of Heavenly Father’s Son.

She reminded all the cowboys, “You’ll be home on Christmas Day.  But Axel is alone, could use a gift or two his way.”

The cowboys had no money, so they chose a piece of tack.  Floyd had an extra rope of horsehair dyed in black.

Wilbur found two right hand mitts and pulled one inside out.  Axel would have a proper pair just good enough to tout.

Whitey had a second coat which no one did back then.  He wrapped it in a gunny sack and placed in Axel’s bin.

Dalley spent the day in town.  The feed store had a hat.  The owner said, “It’s yours for free.”  Can’t beat a deal like that.

The foreman’s wife was quite a gal.  She made a brand-new shirt.  She tore up one old tablecloth and one well worn-out skirt.

With presents wrapped and put away, those cowboys felt akin to a quiet man who they called friend.  Now Christmas settled in.

Axel woke up Christmas morning, went out to do the chores.  He fed the cows and gathered eggs, swung open all their doors.

Axel wondered if this Christmas Day he’d be alone.  The cold wind, unforgiving, chilled him right down to the bone.

Then walking back toward the house, he noticed teams and sleighs with cowboys and their families too, tucked tightly in the hay.

They all sat down for breakfast.  It was dang near half past ten.  Then the foreman’s wife set out the gifts to Axel from the men.

The tears of joy flowed freely, which at first were out of place, were now a part of this old cowboy’s worn and grizzled face.

With children smiling back at him he heard the foreman say, “Merry Christmas to you Axel on this very special day.”

— Bryce Angell