I Love The Boy Scouts of America.

I really do love the Scouting program. One of my most favorite callings was when I was a Den Leader. Scott was one of the cub scouts and it was just a great time.

(Well, maybe I didn't like Scouting all that much when I was 16 and my Dad made me teach the Lifesaving Merit Badge to all the boys in our stake who were my same age but I suppose that is a story for another day)

Anyway, I do love the Scouting program. I love that this Cub Scout shirt still hangs on the wall of Scott's room. I love that the Hawkley Family tradition of Scouting continues.


I will admit that having a son in the Scouting program can sometimes be overwhelming. All those den meetings. All those campouts. All that paper work you have to help him fill out just so he can receive his Eagle Scout award.

I suppose at times I have wondered if all that effort was even worth it.



Then last week something happened. . . to remind me.




Scott and his friend Ben had an assignment in their photography class to take some outdoor shots. They decided to go down into the "hollow". They took some great pictures. The only problem was. . .





Scott wore these. . .


I know, I know. What was he thinking? Don't forget it is January in Utah and it is cold! His only defense was "I didn't think it would be a big deal. I've been on winter campouts before where my boots froze and I couldn't get them off and I had to wear them all night and my feet were fine."

Well, really, what could I say to that.



Anyway. . .

When he got home he said his feet were, well, frozen. He limped into the bathroom to put them in a warm tub of water.

I didn't think much of it because he has done this before. However, when I heard a loud groan/scream come from my boy, I knew something wasn't right.


I went and looked at his feet.

They looked weird. White, red, waxy, puffy. Weird.


I said, "Scott, you might have a little bit of frostbite".

He said, "No I don't". But I could see a little worry in his eyes. His feet were KILLING him.



So what did I do? I went and looked up frostbite on WebMD.



After I decided that Scott probably did have a mild case of frostbite I called Kenneth.

Poor Kenneth. He was stuck on a city bus somewhere around Southtown Mall and what did I say to him? I said, "Kenneth, please come home right now. Scott has frostbite and the website says he needs to go to the Emergency Room. I have also just tasted the dinner and realized I put four times the amount of pepper in it than I should have and it is ruined. There is nothing to eat now. The kids are hungry. Margaret keeps asking me questions and I can't get Caroline's attention because her ear phones are IN. And by the way, what time do you have to go to the church tonight? Kenneth, would you please get home NOW so you can fix everything!"

I was losing it.



Just then my son came limping up the stairs holding this. . .

He was on his way back to the bathroom to put those aching feet back into the warm water, but he wanted to make sure he was doing the right thing for his feet. He went to the one source he knew he could rely on. The one source that had taught him so much during most of his youth.

The Boy Scout Handbook.

I smiled. I felt calm. He HAD learned something. It WAS all worth it. Suddenly I knew all the other "stuff" didn't matter. We would figure out something for dinner. Kenneth would be home soon and everything would be alright.



I knew my boy would be fine.



Oh yeah, his feet hurt like crazy for the next hour or two, but we could tell they were getting better. We avoided a trip to the Emergency Room (thank goodness).



Later that night he was jumping up and down (like he has to do for a tennis match) showing me that he could actually feel and move his toes. They didn't look weird anymore. They didn't hurt anymore. We were so grateful!

I am also grateful for this reminder of why I love The Boy Scouts of America.