Chris wasn't in the mood for the new life he had to begin without his dear friend, Harter. He was only seven years old, when he realized why Harter took so care in teaching him about the wilderness.

It was cold evening in the Kratt household when Chris and his mother heard a faint roaring. Chris was scared because he never dealt with the wild cats of the forest.

Linda was scared herself. She remained sitting on the porch, knitting slowly a new blanket for Martin, her eleven-year-old son, who was living in Maine.

Chris stood up, ignoring the sounds, "Mom? I learned in my books about some kind of game called, 'Rock, Paper, Scissors'."

"Yes?"

"I quite don't understand what it means."

Linda smiled, "No child understands that game unless being explained over forty times."

Chris smiled at his mother, "Can I learn from you?"

"Well," Thought the mother, "Go get me the scissors from the kitchen and a paper from the trash."

Chris smiled and ran inside. He liked it how his mother explains things with nature's tools. He found the scissors and searched the trash for paper. He found junk mail and knew it could do the trick.

He brought the scissors and junk mail to his mother. Then, Linda said, "Now get me a rock."

Chris found a small rock and handed it to his mother. Linda displayed the paper, scissors, and rock on her tow hands, "Now you see these?"

Chris nodded.

Linda rested the paper on her lap and showed the scissors and the rock, "Now we got scissors and this rock, right?"

"Yes."

"Now scissors can't cut through rock, but most rocks can smash right through scissors. So who wins?"

"The rock!"

"Yes. Now," She put the rock down and picked the up the paper, "See this paper?"

"Yes, mother."

"Paper and scissors are in my hands. What will happen?"

"You'll cut the paper?"

"Yes, and?"

"Scissors cut the paper and scissors win?"

"Right, son."

Chris grew super excited. Linda put the scissors down and picked up the rock again, "Okay, last round. I got rock and paper. Who would win?"

"The rock."

"Why?"

"Because rock can break the paper!"

"Actually, that's not true, son."

"What?"

Linda smiled, "You see, the rock is already 'covering' something. Remember scissors and the rock?"

"The scissors are smashed by the rock?"

"Yes. And scissors cut the paper?"

"So paper cuts the rock?"

Linda chuckled, "No. If you extended your hand out as paper and someone has a fist, you lay your 'paper' on top of their rock. Imagine it this way: Rock over Scissors; Scissors over Paper; and Paper over Rock."

Chris thought for a few minutes, "So, what you are saying is... Like a Life Cycle?"

Linda chuckled, "You can think of it that way, but actually , that is exactly a good way to think about it."

Chris stood up, "I can try it with you, Mom?!"

Linda said, "I'll teach you how to do the hand gestures, okay?"

"Okay."

Linda said, "Keep your hand in a fist. If you want rock, it's a fist. Scissors is two fingers as I am showing you right now. And paper is a flat hand. Okay?"

"Okay!"

Linda continued, "Now as I chant the saying, when I say 'scissors', show one of three gestures."

"Alright."

"Rock, Paper, Scissors."

Chris extended his 'scissors' and Linda was paper. He cried in his excitement, "Chrissors!"

Linda laughed, "Not bad on first try. But scissors, isn't Chrissors."

"Chrissors?" Smirked the little boy, "I like that new name for scissors!"

Linda laughed, "You brush your teeth and get ready for bed, young man. Oh! He's just a kidding boy to me."