Who Wants To Run Get the Arrow

Who wants to go archery shooting with me? Daddy would say. We would be jumping up and down with glee on that Sunday. Our mother would remind us we had to be back for Sunday School. That’s okay, we would be. It was almost her only rule. My twin and I would get to watch Daddy let that arrow fly! And how we would race to get it. One would win, the other – cry. We fought over the arrow all the way back to him, angry and upset. I still to this day have no idea why we would both still like to do this yet.