(today's word is MERIT)
Monday afternoons, 4 pm, you’ll find me in my scout uniform
trying to rope-in 8 nine year old boys with my friend, Kathryn Yearman.
Kathryn, in a rather short period of time, has seen the best and worst of me,
I’m afraid. It’s a good thing I don’t
get any judgmental vibes from her or I’d be in serious emotional trouble.
One of the things I love about my church, the Church of Jesus
Christ of Latter-day Saints, is our lay ministry. We are called by our ward leaders (a ward is
like a parish) to various positions, serving each other. These callings come under divine guidance, we
believe, and it is one of the great benefits of having joined the ranks of
empty nesters to have served in a variety of callings in my life. My current calling is as a Bear Den Leader in
the Cub Scouts. The church has a long
standing relationship with the Boy Scouts of America, and where most other dens
and troops have volunteer leaders who basically ask to serve, we sometimes get
to answer the request to serve out of the blue. So I went from teaching the
adult women of our ward in Relief Society, to serving as Bear Den Leader with
Kathryn.
I have one son, and when he was scout age I was serving with
the young women in our stake (a stake is a cluster of wards). So I never did
learn much about scouting with Johnny.
Poor Johnny, his mom was not the kind of mom who visited the scout
shop. In fact, the first time I ever
went to the scout store was two months ago, when I had to purchase a handbook,
a manual, a shirt, neckerchief, and badges.
The salesman had to look up what troop I was in. I am seriously scouting illiterate! At least I was. Now, I suspect, if you were to correlate
scouting progress with school progress, I might be entering kindergarten. I’ve taken
my online courses in safety and such, and I’ve skimmed the handbook, and I have
semi-effectively participated in a couple months worth of den meetings. We’ve
learned fire safety, how to make an escape plan in an emergency, how to write a
polite thank you note, how to write a fluid personal story, how to bake and eat
brownies, how to organize a game, and how to make a marshmallow cannon out of a
balloon and a plastic cup.
When I bought my crisp new scout shirt it was just a chunk
of khaki fabric with some red words embroidered on the chest. Made for a man, I al I spent two days hand stitching the badges in
their dutiful places on that shirt. The
tips of my right hand fingers drew blood in the process. Goodness, you’d think they could figure out
how to make those badges more user friendly. None of my badges are merit
badges, however. I don’t think so
anyway, but like I said, I am sort of scouting illiterate. Still, the badges I
have say something about me. You’ll know
just by looking at my shirt that I am an official scouter, and I belong to the
Great Salt Lake Council. My position is
Bear Den Leader, and my scout troop is something like 4319.
My good son John received his Eagle Scout with nary a merit
badge stitched to his sash, or whatever it is you call that bandalo thing. He wore a crisp white shirt with his scout
neckerchief tied around his neck. It was ok with him. And it was ok with me. And, blessedly, it was ok with his scoutmaster. He knew, as I know, that the important part
was not the badges anyway…it was the merit.
I always feel a little weird when I get called up front at pack meeting for my boys to pin the "mother's pin" on me. But then I remember that it's me that has to deal with sewing all those patches so I really did earn it. :)
ReplyDelete