Among the things I moved back into my master bedroom was my .22 rifle. Growing up in the Montana of my youth, a lot of boys I knew were given a .22 rifle by the time they reached the age of twelve or so. I had moved in to live with my grandparents by that age, and they, instead of my parents, gave me the rifle.
In moving back into my bedroom, I came across the
rifle again. Looking upon it, I thought about the trust my grandparents placed
in me by presenting me with the rifle. This gift was a rite of passage in the
old Montana way.
—Mitchell
Hegman
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