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believing they did something wrong to be here. “It’s almost never their fault,” Newberry said. “However, that’s a hard message to undo.” Some of these children have been moved about between several different homes repeatedly, often in many different locations. Siblings are sometimes separated (though Foster’s has an innovative program to keep them together). The Foster’s Home mission statement is “To heal the wounds of troubled children.” Its frst child was taken into Sherwood and Myrtie Foster’s home in 1960. Over 2,000 have passed through its doors since then and ffty-fve children currently reside there.

When the six children were selected for the hunt, they had to be long-term placements, to ensure they would be around in January. The day I visited Newberry told me the kids selected were fred up! They ranged in age from 13 - 17. One was a special needs child. Colby’s relative, Christin Pack, made sure the kids became hunter certifed early in December. As the date for the hunt approached, kids traveled to Ed Horton’s ranch south of town, to learn to sight in their rifes with their guides.

That frst afternoon of the hunt, three young men, and three young women arrived in the Foster’s Home white van at the 2,200 acre Welge Ranch in Doss, near Fredericksburg, three hours south of Stephenville. Colby Pack invited buddies who were experienced hunters to act as guides, to teach the kids to shoot, handle a gun, and how to be good stewards of the land. Four kids had never hunted and three of those had never held a gun. That night the guides and the children assembled around a blazing campfre in the quiet Hill Country dark. Other than the campfre’s pop and quiet conversation back and forth, it’s just you and nature. They made ‘smores and tried to leave everything else in the past. Stories were told and jokes were exchanged. Soon that circle of strangers became one, just friends hanging out. Around 9 p.m., the children joined Foster’s house parent, Chris Cox, inside the rustic cabin and went to sleep. The frst night around the campfre had been a success. The next morning’s deer hunt was only a few hours away.

Before dawn, the hunters awoke to a light fog on the rolling land straddling Threadgill Creek. They moved in threes to their respective deer stands, among mesquite or dense cedar. Each stand had a child and two experienced hunting guides to mentor them. Four nice deer stands were built for the kids with material given by The Plywood Company of Fort Worth, Bradberry Builder’s Supply, Jason Nitschke Construction, and Sherwin Williams. Colby stayed behind at headquarters as the hopeful hunters set off, preparing himself for the unexpected. Then it got quiet. The radio crackled to life at 7:05 a.m. with the voice of 13-year-old James, “Station 13 - Doe down.” A confdent voice; James was the frst to bag a doe, a clean shot at 43 yards! The hunt was on!

Tommy Pack, Colby’s uncle, served as one of the guides to 15-year-old Clarissa. She’d never hunted, never fred a rife. In the deer stand Tommy, Court Cole, and Clarissa waited in the dark, hoping for a deer, talking a little. “Let’s be quiet,” Tommy said, “our deer feeder’s about to go off.” Nevertheless, Clarissa begins talking again. The three just starts cutting up without regard to the effect it’s having on perspective four-legged targets outside. About that time, a doe walked up. Clarissa lifted the rife to her shoulder and pulled the trigger. BLAM! The new young hunter smiled from ear to ear the rest of the weekend.