several generations of your family had upheld the tradition
there was only one secret duty your blood undertook every single year, without fail
the winter solstice meant the man of the family had to go out into the woods at a specific time
it was always under the cover of darkness
paying a debt incurred so long ago
a child cured from what was sure to be a miserable death
that child was your great-great-great granduncle
given how important this ceremony was to the family, they'd charted the whole thing out
your dad had done it
his uncle had done it
pretty much most of the men in your family did it
always the oldest man in the home
your sisters had gone off to college
dismissed the whole thing since they didn't have to do it
but it was important to you
this was your turn
your first night into the woods for the clandestine exchange
you'd brought the traditional gifts
brass buttons
cookies
cream
honey
and a small slip of blank paper
every year it was the exact same
at least that's what your dad said
this year was only your year because he went and had a heart attack shoveling snow with you
that was nearly a year ago
last winter
still hurt
but every day the pain dulled
time didn't heal wounds
it just made them easier to shoulder
you pushed that negativity off to the side
right now, you'd get to see what this was all about
maybe it was all silly like your sisters had said
some simple old superstition
it still gave you something to look forward to for the holiday