Our community has a moose problem. This time of year, moose start to move into our yards, eating fruit from our trees and vegetables in our gardens. Oh, they do it the rest of the year, too, but it is most prevalent in the fall. That is why a bunch of the men gathered around before church to share stories.

“How about you, Daris?” one of the others asked. “Have you had any problems with moose this year?”

“Not as much this year as in the past,” I replied. “I had a mother and a calf come early in the spring. The mother left after busting up my trees. But the yearling she had with her was too sick to follow.”

“What did you do about it?” someone asked.

“My wife called the Fish and Game Department and asked them to come remove it,” I answered. “We didn’t even want to chase it or anything for fear it would be too much for it.”

“Did the Fish and Game Department send someone out?” another person asked.

“Yes, the officer came the next morning and asked if she could look around. You wouldn’t believe what she found.”

“A whole herd of moose had destroyed your whole orchard and garden,” someone joked.

“Actually, she found the sick yearling had wandered into my open shop and died there. The Fish and Game officer said it was completely tick-infested, too.”

Some of the guys grimaced at the thought of a tick-infested animal dying in my shop.

“The Fish and Game people came out the morning after that and drug it out of my shop and carted it away,” I said.

“Maybe that is why no more moose have come around your place,” one of the men said. “They don’t want to catch the overabundance of ticks the other moose left you.”

Just about that time, Cyrus hobbled in, leaning hard on his cane. He moved slowly toward where we were.

One of the men turned to him. “Cyrus, I understand you have had some moose problems recently?”

“I sure have,” Cyrus replied. “There is one big bull moose that thinks he owns my property. He has eaten almost every apple on every apple tree I own.”

“Have you done anything about it?” another man asked.

“Well, I decided I had had enough. So I got out my pellet gun, thinking I would give him a sting without causing any permanent damage. I thought that would be sufficient to drive him away and at least leave me a few apples for myself.”

“Did the pellet gun work?” someone asked.

Cyrus shook his head. “It only made him mad. I fired a few rounds, and he started to move away, so I followed. But then, he changed his mind and turned and chased me.”

“You’re still here, so you must have beat him to the house,” someone said.

“Did I ever,” Cyrus replied. “If I had run like that in my college days, I would have set a world record.”

Cyrus then turned and hobbled slowly into the chapel. We all stared after him.

Then Samuel said, “And thus we see, that even a moose can be the source of a miracle.”