{"id":2117,"date":"2016-12-21T17:48:50","date_gmt":"2016-12-21T22:48:50","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/?p=2117"},"modified":"2016-12-21T17:48:50","modified_gmt":"2016-12-21T22:48:50","slug":"issue-511-december-21-2016","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/2016\/12\/issue-511-december-21-2016\/","title":{"rendered":"Issue 511 \u2013 December 21, 2016"},"content":{"rendered":"

________________________________________
\n(I first wrote this story\u2014it\u2019s a true one\u2014in 2007. Today, nine years later, we have, in addition to long-time readers, a whole new generation of Scouters, Scouts, and parents reading. So it occurred to me that perhaps it\u2019s time for our newest readers to see this particular tale\u2026which I offer with very best wishes to all my loyal readers for happy holidays\u2014no matter which ones you celebrate!)<\/em><\/p>\n

The Scout Who Saved Christmas<\/strong><\/p>\n

The Christmas season that year wasn\u2019t particularly cold but, after all, it was Southern California back then. It was early evening, Christmas Eve, and my 12-year-old Boy Scout son and I were hunting for our last item\u2026a Christmas tree.<\/p>\n

This was a difficult winter, although I did my best to show a bright face. Fact was, I was pretty much in survival mode. I\u2019d just become a single parent. And I\u2019d lost my job. A rancorous divorce had taken its monetary as well as emotional toll. Cash was so tight, I wasn\u2019t sure I\u2019d be able to make this Christmas anywhere close to merry. My son was devastated just a week earlier, when his \u201cearly Christmas present\u201d\u2014a shiny new bicycle\u2014had been stolen. Yes, I\u2019d found a replacement for it, but it sure was no bargain at this time of year. I had some other gifts for him, but I knew in my heart that \u201cSanta\u201d was going to fall a little\u2014actually a whole lot\u2014short this year.<\/p>\n

If I can just get through the next couple of days, I thought, then maybe things will turn out OK. But, sitting next to me in the car was a bright-eyed boy who, if not believing in Santa Claus himself anymore, still believed in the spirit of Christmas. I sure didn\u2019t want to disappoint him, and so I hoped against hope that the few dollars I had left in my pocket would be enough for a tree. As we drove around town on our \u201ctree hunt\u201d that evening, some lots had already sold all their trees and were closing up. Others were still open and had trees, but they were just too expensive for me.<\/p>\n

We made the rounds. Parked the car. Looked at some trees. Drove and parked and looked some more. Mostly, I tried to pretend the trees we saw were too tall, or too short, or too whatever, when the truth was I just didn\u2019t have enough money to buy them. Now it was getting late, and still no tree.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey,\u201d I finally said to my son, \u201cRemember that Boy Scout tree lot\u2026the one the troop in the next town over has, to raise money for their camping trips? We\u2019ve bought lots of trees there over the years. Maybe they have one just for us, this year.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, Dad, I remember them,\u201d my son said. \u201cLet\u2019s go check \u2018em out.\u201d I knew he was probably weary of driving from one tree lot to the next with still no tree, but he was still grinning. So, turning the car around, we drove to the next town, and found the troop\u2019s tree lot\u2026just as it was closing down.<\/p>\n

A few Scouts were still milling around, picking up stray pieces of twine and small branches that had been trimmed from the tree bottoms so they\u2019d fit in their stands. A couple of fathers were putting saws and unused tree stand wood into the back of a small pickup truck. We parked anyway, and walked over to where they were cleaning up. And there, amidst the last-minute debris, was one lone tree. Just one. Unsold. Standing alone, by itself. Not too tall, not too short, with full, bunchy branches still visible in the fading evening light.<\/p>\n

As I quietly tucked one hand into my right pants pocket, trying to re-count the few dollars I had left, one of the Scouts\u2014he was maybe 16 or 17 years old\u2014walked over to where we were standing.<\/p>\n

\u201cHi! Can I help you?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re looking for a tree!\u201d blurted my son, while I foolishly tried to look as if we might have been there for some other reason.<\/p>\n

Then, one of the fathers came over. Asked the same question, I just sort of shuffled my feet, feeling the thinness of the folded dollars in my pocket.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, don\u2019t I know you?\u201d asked the Scout. \u201cYeah, I know you two,\u201d he said. \u201cYou\u2019ve bought trees from us almost every year, ever since I became a Scout six years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m a Scout now, too,\u201d my son said, \u201cJust like you!\u201d<\/p>\n

The Scout turned to his father. \u201cHey, Dad,\u201d he said, \u201cyou\u2019ve been complaining about what we\u2019re gonna do with that one last tree. How about we just give it to these guys. They\u2019ve been good customers of ours ever since I joined the troop.\u201d<\/p>\n

His dad smiled. \u201cSounds like a good idea to me. Want us to tie it to the top of your car?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure, and I\u2019ll help,\u201d my own son added, and he and the other Scout tied up the branches and then secured the tree to our car.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I have to pay you something,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cNaah\u2026Don\u2019t give it a second thought,\u201d the Scout\u2019s dad said. \u201cThat tree\u2019s been looking for the right home all day, and it just found it!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHave a Merry Christmas!\u201d the Scout waved, as we drove from the lot.<\/p>\n

You have no idea just how merry you\u2019ve made this particular Christmas, I thought as my son and I headed home.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s been nearly twenty-five years since that night. My son\u2019s an Eagle Scout now, like his Dad. We\u2019ve had many Christmases, and many Scouting adventures, both together and separately, since then. But of all the Christmases of my own childhood and his, and of all the Christmases ever, this remains the one Christmas Eve forever warm in my memory\u2026almost as if it had happened just a moment ago.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t know the name of that Scout, but I know his face, and the sound of his voice, and his carriage and manner. I hope he somehow finds and reads this one day, and recognizes that this is about him and the wonderful thing he did that night, without even knowing it, just because\u2026 just because that\u2019s what Scouts do.<\/p>\n

Andy<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

Have a question? Facing a dilemma? Wondering where to find a BSA policy or guideline? Write to askandybsa@yahoo.com. Please include your name and council. (If you\u2019d prefer to be anonymous, if published, let me know and that\u2019s what we\u2019ll do.)<\/strong><\/p>\n

[No. 511 \u2013 12\/21\/2016 \u2013 Copyright \u00a9 Andy McCommish 2016]<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

________________________________________ (I first wrote this story\u2014it\u2019s a true one\u2014in 2007. Today, nine years later, we have, in addition to long-time readers, a whole new generation of Scouters, Scouts, and parents reading. So it occurred to me that perhaps it\u2019s time for our newest readers to see this particular tale\u2026which I offer with very best wishes […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2117","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-news"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2117","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2117"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2117\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2120,"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2117\/revisions\/2120"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2117"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2117"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2117"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}