From <@tcuavm.is.tcu.edu:owner-scouts-l@TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU> Tue Apr 21 18:47:37 1998 Return-Path: <@tcuavm.is.tcu.edu:owner-scouts-l@TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU> Received: from tcuavm.is.tcu.edu (TCUAVM.IS.TCU.EDU [138.237.128.148]) by cap1.CapAccess.org (8.6.12/8.6.10) with SMTP id SAA26433 for ; Tue, 21 Apr 1998 18:47:37 -0400 Received: from TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU by tcuavm.is.tcu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 1034; Tue, 21 Apr 98 17:39:29 CDT Received: from TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@TCUBVM) by TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (LMail V1.2a/1.8a) with BSMTP id 4171; Tue, 21 Apr 1998 17:39:37 -0500 Received: from TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU by TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (LISTSERV release 1.8b) with NJE id 4164 for SCOUTS-L@TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU; Tue, 21 Apr 1998 17:39:00 -0500 Received: from TCUBVM (NJE origin SMTP@TCUBVM) by TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (LMail V1.2a/1.8a) with BSMTP id 4163; Tue, 21 Apr 1998 17:38:57 -0500 Received: from ALPHA.IS.TCU.EDU by tcubvm.is.tcu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with TCP; Tue, 21 Apr 98 17:38:53 CDT Received: from dewdrop2.mindspring.com (dewdrop2.mindspring.com) by ALPHA.IS.TCU.EDU (PMDF V5.0-5 #20456) id <01IW2DUG6PA800GNSA@ALPHA.IS.TCU.EDU> for scouts-l@ALPHA.IS.TCU.EDU; Sun, 19 Apr 1998 20:09:12 -0500 (CDT) Received: from default (pool-207-205-195-154.wlhm.grid.net [207.205.195.154]) by dewdrop2.mindspring.com (8.8.5/8.8.5) with SMTP id VAA02035; Sun, 19 Apr 1998 21:09:08 -0400 (EDT) X-Sender: mcgarrah@pop.mindspring.com MIME-version: 1.0 X-Mailer: Windows Eudora Light Version 3.0.1 (32) Content-type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Content-transfer-encoding: 7BIT Message-ID: <3.0.1.32.19980419210555.007ce9b0@pop.mindspring.com> Date: Sun, 19 Apr 1998 21:05:55 -0400 Reply-To: "Craig R. McGarrah" Sender: Scouts-L Youth Group List From: "Craig R. McGarrah" Subject: A Special Scouting Moment X-To: scouts-umc@home.ease.lsoft.com, scouts-l@tcu.edu, bsa-florida-net@scouter.com, mbhorwitz@aol.com, lobenick@aol.com, fdanaher@msn.com To: Multiple recipients of list SCOUTS-L Status: RO X-Status: I want to share an experience I had today. I go to a little church in central Connecticut (I live in Jupiter, FL, but am up here temporarily) with about 100 members, including several kids. Since I have been up here for a while, everyone, inluding the kids, know me and even though I am not involved in the Scouts up here, they all know I am a Cubmaster in Florida since I coordinated their Scout Sunday service this past february. When I arrived at church this morning, 11-year-old Kyle was putting on his Acolyte robe and I said hi to him. Kyle has never paid much attention to me, but this morning he looked at me with his bright blue eyes wide. He couldn't wait to tell me something. "I'm a Boy Scout now!," he said while fumbling with his robe and reaching for his brand new boy scout handbook behind him. "I just got my Arrow of Light and now I can join a Troop! I've been practicing. Go ahead, ask me anything in the Scout requirements!" When I asked him the Scout Oath, he immediately snapped a scout sign (with his robe half on) and excitedly started to recite the oath. The Pastor interrupted since we were already late in starting the service. I helped him on with his robe and other items and told him he could do it after the service. Midway through the service, the kids are ushered downstairs for Sunday school. After the service, I was talking to someone else when Kyle walked up and couldn't wait to recite the Oath for me! He did so and bragged that he knew the Law and all the other items too. I told him how proud I was of him! We then talked about camping and he showed me his ability with the yo-yo (yes, the yo-yo. It seems it is getting popular again). I was very honored to be the audience for his new source of excitement. The enthusiasm I saw in his eyes was something really special! I see it often in the eyes of the boys in the Pack I work with in Florida, but you have to know Kyle to know how truly special the moment was. I pray he never loses that enthusiasm, and that I don't either! Craig McGarrah Cubmaster -- Pack 132, Palm Beach Gardens, FL United Methodist Youth Fellowship Adviser -- UMC of East Berlin, CT mcgarrah@mindspring.com From <@tcuavm.is.tcu.edu:owner-scouts-l@TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU> Tue Apr 21 17:51:03 1998 Return-Path: <@tcuavm.is.tcu.edu:owner-scouts-l@TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU> Received: from tcuavm.is.tcu.edu (TCUAVM.IS.TCU.EDU [138.237.128.148]) by cap1.CapAccess.org (8.6.12/8.6.10) with SMTP id RAA15992 for ; Tue, 21 Apr 1998 17:51:03 -0400 Received: from TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU by tcuavm.is.tcu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 0699; Tue, 21 Apr 98 13:47:32 CDT Received: from TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@TCUBVM) by TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (LMail V1.2a/1.8a) with BSMTP id 2388; Tue, 21 Apr 1998 13:47:37 -0500 Received: from TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU by TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (LISTSERV release 1.8b) with NJE id 2240 for SCOUTS-L@TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU; Tue, 21 Apr 1998 13:46:46 -0500 Received: from TCUBVM (NJE origin SMTP@TCUBVM) by TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (LMail V1.2a/1.8a) with BSMTP id 2239; Tue, 21 Apr 1998 13:41:47 -0500 Received: from ALPHA.IS.TCU.EDU by tcubvm.is.tcu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with TCP; Tue, 21 Apr 98 13:40:36 CDT Received: from camel7.mindspring.com (camel7.mindspring.com) by ALPHA.IS.TCU.EDU (PMDF V5.0-5 #20456) id <01IW2J9329F400FYH0@ALPHA.IS.TCU.EDU> for scouts-l@ALPHA.IS.TCU.EDU; Sun, 19 Apr 1998 22:43:47 -0500 (CDT) Received: from default (pool-207-205-195-111.wlhm.grid.net [207.205.195.111]) by camel7.mindspring.com (8.8.5/8.8.5) with SMTP id XAA24714; Sun, 19 Apr 1998 23:42:00 -0400 (EDT) X-Sender: mcgarrah@pop.mindspring.com MIME-version: 1.0 X-Mailer: Windows Eudora Light Version 3.0.1 (32) Content-type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Content-transfer-encoding: 7BIT Message-ID: <3.0.1.32.19980419233730.007cb510@pop.mindspring.com> Date: Sun, 19 Apr 1998 23:37:30 -0400 Reply-To: "Craig R. McGarrah" Sender: Scouts-L Youth Group List From: "Craig R. McGarrah" Subject: The Scoutmaster Who Tried (Long) X-To: barbara.lawson@bge.com, dgaassoc@siservices.net, mbarr12394@aol.com, curtin1@gate.net, fdanaher@msn.com, sddoll@gate.net, jdresner@pol.net, Barry@TheMystics.org, gardinerm@aol.com, hitchiti@flinet.com, robertsg@bellsouth.net, jmhxray@aol.com, john_hampp@goxng08.fpl.com, jhisc9999@aol.com, mbhorwitz@aol.com, jjonescpa@aol.com, reflector@juno.com, bekjamin@aol.com, tknight888@aol.com, sherylkoontz@paxson.com, doctor_larkin@juno.com, rmcgarra@concentric.net, lobenick@aol.com, rolliff@aol.com, cpepkp@aol.com, jsheetz@goxng08.fpl.com, cdshuford@aol.com, dweda@goxng08.fpl.com, bsa-florida-net@scouter.com, scouts-l@tcu.edu, scouts-umc@home.ease.lsoft.com To: Multiple recipients of list SCOUTS-L Status: RO X-Status: I would like to tell this true story about an experience I had when I was a scout in Boy Scout Troop 173, Etna, PA (a working-class northern suburb of Pittsburgh). This story is also about the Scoutmaster who took over this troop in 1944 and today, in 1998, he is still the Scoutmaster, my Uncle Bill Fincke. The year was 1979 and I was 13 years old. We loaded up the troop bus (a 1961 International "the big green weenie") with 35 boys and 7 adults and went to our favorite summer camp, Camp Halliburton in Halliburton, Ontario, Canada. We had gone there the previous year and because of its very rustic nature, it was our unanimous choice for that summer's trip. After our 18 hour ride (you couldn't do that today, even with switching drivers like we did), we couldn't wait to get in our canoes and paddle to the campsite on Lake Kennabi. Unfortunately, the weather didn't cooperate. It rained just after we got there and continued for the next couple of days. By tuesday, the weather was taking its toll. We had canvas tents then. The Overnighters (for 2 people, 1 pole) and the Voyagers (for 3 people, 2 poles) were what we had with no floors. Even though everyone used ground cloths, things didn't stay dry and everyone was miserable. That evening, we had spaghetti, but since we couldn't keep the fire lit for any length of time, we had to use the plastic trays (at Camp Halliburton, only burned-out cans and glass are permitted as garbage. Everything else must be burned. Without a good running fire, 42 spaghetti plates would invite every racoon in Canada.). Several were drafted (including me) to clean up the 42 trays plus cooking items under the leaky tarps. The task took two hours even though we were veterans at the cleanup routine. We were about to kill each other and even our usually jovial leaders were not in the mood to laugh. Tensions were high all over our campsite. The younger kids started to whine about wanting to go home. The older kids were starting to get into fights. The adults were on edge. Something had to be done. Uncle Bill let everyone know that he expected them to be ready for the campfire that night. It was met with a collective groan. In our troop, it is tradition to have a campfire program every night with only the rarest of exceptions. Yes, we recycled the same skits and songs, but somehow the comraderie of being together around the campfire was always something we looked forward to. Not tonight. All we wanted to do was crawl into our wet sleeping bags and try to pretend this day didn't exist. However, Uncle Bill wasn't going to put up with any whining. We were going to have a campfire and that was that. As the time came, he had to rustle the boys from their tents. His and some of the boy's and leader's attempt at getting a fire going with wet wood was met with only moderate success. We had a fire, but it wasn't much to look at. The boys who came took one look at the wimpy fire and the soaked wood, and they started back to their tents (it was still lightly raining at this time). They were rounded up again with much tension. We started by doing a few songs which no one was really into. The only highlight was Harold Park's bouncing rendition of "Sippin' Ci'" which we all enjoyed. Harold was well into his 70's and had a youthful enthusiasm that won over everyone. Other than that, everyone had to be prodded to participate. The skits, which usually got at least a polite laughter and applause, was getting no reaction. This campfire was turning out to be the worlds biggest flop even though the rain had stopped before the program started. Rather than drag it out, Uncle Bill went right into his closing. He had asked everyone to bring a branch with them to the campfire. He spoke about how the spirit of scouting was with all of us even when things were bad, and he put in his little can of ashes which he always kept from past campfires. I remember about this time someone noticing the sky opening up. No one was very interested. Uncle Bill said some other things which I do not remember. The idea was we were to finish the campfire by laying our branch on the fire (which was looking better by this time) and leave in silence. He tried to make an impressive ending. He did pretty well considering the circumstances, but didn't get much credit. We did as he asked and many of the boys headed right for their tents, but several of the boys and I hung around. The prospect of going back to the wet tents didn't sound as good now that the rain had stopped. One of the boys, who went over to the dock, called us over to notice the sky. We went over to see the sky halfway into peeling back the clouds to reveal the most clear sky I had ever seen! I had been to Canada before, so I had seen how clear the skies get, but this was amazing! The milky way looked like a cloud, and you couldn't pick out any constellations because the stars were so numerous! We watched as the thick cloud layer completed its journey across the sky, but the best was yet to come. When the skies had completely cleared, we saw a funny light at the far horizon. At first, only a few noticed it, but as it grew, more marvelled at it. What was it? We talked half-jokingly about UFO's, but we were a little scared. It looked so unnatural! We had to see what it was. Over the course of the next 15 minutes, we sure found out as the NORTHERN LIGHTS painted a full 180 degrees of the sky! If you have never seen them that far north, you have never truly seen them. No picture you have ever seen can describe the eerie, undulating, jagged color waves that paint the sky like that. The entire half-dome of the sky was alive with them as the other half displayed the unbelievably clear night sky with no moon to distract the view. You couldn't stand up and watch them because you would lose your balance. I was sitting and having trouble keeping upright! I remember Harold Parks talking on and on about how in his 70+ years of camping, he had never seen a sight like this and told us that in our entire lives we may never see such a sight again. So far, he was right! Uncle Bill was still back in the campsite doing some medial chores when one of the younger boys said, "Hey Mr. Fincke! Come see what you did!" He believed for a moment that Uncle Bill's ceremony was responsible for what he was seeing! We all smiled to ourselves, but we realized that he wasn't completely wrong. If the campfire hadn't happened and if he hadn't tried to make a nice finish to a dreary day, no one would have ever seen this ultimate expression of the natural world! Uncle Bill came over and was awestruck. After several minutes of silence, he said, "How can anyone see a sight such as this and not believe that there is a God?" A long silence followed as we continued well into the night observing God's gift to us. Thank God for nature's unbelievable beauty, and thank God for Scoutmasters who try! Craig McGarrah Troop 173 (Etna, PA) Eagle Class of 1981 Cubmaster -- Pack 132, Palm Beach Gardens, FL mcgarrah@mindspring.com From <@tcuavm.is.tcu.edu:owner-scouts-l@TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU> Thu Apr 23 00:33:15 1998 Return-Path: <@tcuavm.is.tcu.edu:owner-scouts-l@TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU> Received: from tcuavm.is.tcu.edu (TCUAVM.IS.TCU.EDU [138.237.128.148]) by cap1.CapAccess.org (8.6.12/8.6.10) with SMTP id AAA01081 for ; Thu, 23 Apr 1998 00:33:15 -0400 Received: from TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU by tcuavm.is.tcu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2284; Wed, 22 Apr 98 23:25:09 CDT Received: from TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@TCUBVM) by TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (LMail V1.2a/1.8a) with BSMTP id 1218; Wed, 22 Apr 1998 23:25:15 -0500 Received: from TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU by TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (LISTSERV release 1.8b) with NJE id 1212 for SCOUTS-L@TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU; Wed, 22 Apr 1998 23:24:08 -0500 Received: from TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@TCUBVM) by TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (LMail V1.2a/1.8a) with BSMTP id 1210; Wed, 22 Apr 1998 23:24:02 -0500 Approved-By: EIDSON@TCUBVM Received: from TCUBVM (NJE origin SMTP@TCUBVM) by TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (LMail V1.2a/1.8a) with BSMTP id 9486; Tue, 21 Apr 1998 10:29:33 -0500 Received: from italy.it.earthlink.net by tcubvm.is.tcu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with TCP; Tue, 21 Apr 98 10:28:53 CDT Received: from pourciau (ip60.baton-rouge.la.pub-ip.psi.net [38.11.252.60]) by italy.it.earthlink.net (8.8.7/8.8.5) with ESMTP id PAA18017; Sun, 19 Apr 1998 15:07:54 -0700 (PDT) X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Priority: 3 X-Mailer: Microsoft Internet Mail 4.70.1161 MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Message-ID: <199804192207.PAA18017@italy.it.earthlink.net> Date: Sun, 19 Apr 1998 17:07:55 -0500 Reply-To: "Charles W. Pourciau" Sender: Scouts-L Youth Group List From: "Charles W. Pourciau" Subject: Great Story.. X-To: Allyson Mayeux , Andre , Andrea , Ann , Christine , Donna Ott , Eric Pourciau , "Frances @ work" , Jacques , "Jean @ LSU" , Lavelle & Bob Byrd , Mike Mc & Donna , Rhonda Newman , Rob Robillard , Sara Pourciau To: Multiple recipients of list SCOUTS-L Status: RO X-Status: My friend Craig shared this with me, thank you Craig. ----------------------------------------------------------------- The greatest and most unique gift we have been given and the most awsome power we will ever possess as humans is the ability to choose to selflessly help another - especially when we too may be in great need (of money, love, acceptance, time, or whatever the needs we may possess). How one exercises that power is the only real mark of success in life! ---------------------------------------- He was driving home one evening, on a two-lane country road. Work, in this small mid-western community, was almost as slow as his beat-up Pontiac. But he never quit looking. Ever since the Levis factory closed, he'd been unemployed, and with winter raging on, the chill had finally hit home. It was a lonely road. Not very many people had a reason to be on it, unless they were leaving. Most of his friends had already left. They had families to feed and dreams to fulfill. But he stayed on. After all, this was where he buried his mother and father. He was born here and knew the country. He could go down this road blind, and tell you what was on either side, and with his headlights not working, that came in handy. It was starting to get dark and light snow flurries were coming down. He'd better get a move on. You know, he almost didn't see the old lady, stranded on the side of the road. But even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her. Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe, he looked poor and hungry. He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was that chill that only fear can put in you. He said, "I'm here to help you ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm. By the way, my name is Joe." Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough Joe crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands hurt. As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down her window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid. Joe just smiled as he closed her trunk. She asked him how much she owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her. She had already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped. Joe never thought twice about the money. This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way. He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance that they needed, and Joe added "and think of me". He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight. A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The cash register was like the telephone of an out of work actor, it didn't ring much. Her waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed that the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Joe. After the lady finished her meal, and the waitress went to get her change from a hundred dollar bill, the lady slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back. She wondered where the lady could be, then she noticed something written on a napkin. There were tears in her eyes, when she read what the lady wrote. It said, "You don't owe me a thing, I've been there too. Someone once helped me out, the way I'm helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here's what you do. Don't let the chain of love end with you." Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could she have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard. She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, Everything's gonna be all right. I love you, Joe." Pass it on... ------------------------------------------------ One person chose twelve very different people -- some illiterate, some with questionable backgrounds, a fractious band subject to momentary cowardice -- and trained his staff so well that they went on to so influence the world that time iteslf is now recorded as being before or after his existence! From <@tcuavm.is.tcu.edu:owner-scouts-l@TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU> Thu Apr 23 00:45:01 1998 Return-Path: <@tcuavm.is.tcu.edu:owner-scouts-l@TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU> Received: from mail1.bellatlantic.net (mail1.bellatlantic.net [199.45.32.38]) by cap1.CapAccess.org (8.6.12/8.6.10) with ESMTP id AAA02962 for ; Thu, 23 Apr 1998 00:45:01 -0400 Received: from tcuavm.is.tcu.edu (TCUAVM.IS.TCU.EDU [138.237.128.148]) by mail1.bellatlantic.net (8.8.5/8.8.5) with SMTP id XAA20836 for ; Wed, 22 Apr 1998 23:36:53 -0500 (EST) Received: from TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU by tcuavm.is.tcu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with BSMTP id 2300; Wed, 22 Apr 98 23:36:10 CDT Received: from TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@TCUBVM) by TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (LMail V1.2a/1.8a) with BSMTP id 1415; Wed, 22 Apr 1998 23:36:16 -0500 Received: from TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU by TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (LISTSERV release 1.8b) with NJE id 1404 for SCOUTS-L@TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU; Wed, 22 Apr 1998 23:35:00 -0500 Received: from TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (NJE origin LISTSERV@TCUBVM) by TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (LMail V1.2a/1.8a) with BSMTP id 1403; Wed, 22 Apr 1998 23:34:58 -0500 Approved-By: EIDSON@TCUBVM Received: from TCUBVM (NJE origin SMTP@TCUBVM) by TCUBVM.IS.TCU.EDU (LMail V1.2a/1.8a) with BSMTP id 3118; Tue, 21 Apr 1998 15:00:57 -0500 Received: from ALPHA.IS.TCU.EDU by tcubvm.is.tcu.edu (IBM VM SMTP V2R2) with TCP; Tue, 21 Apr 98 15:00:43 CDT Received: from bbs.pixelation.com by ALPHA.IS.TCU.EDU (PMDF V5.0-5 #20456) id <01IW2IM20PSG00GRAI@ALPHA.IS.TCU.EDU> for scouts-l@ALPHA.IS.TCU.EDU; Sun, 19 Apr 1998 22:25:23 -0500 (CDT) Received: from mom [208.235.50.52] by bbs.pixelation.com with smtp id BGBHBGEN ; Sun, 19 Apr 1998 22:23:22 -0600 MIME-version: 1.0 X-Mailer: Microsoft Outlook Express 4.71.1712.3 Content-type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit X-ROUTED: Sun, 19 Apr 1998 22:24:10 -0600 X-TCP-IDENTITY: Butterbuns X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V4.71.1712.3 Message-ID: <01bd6c0b$e4ba5a20$3432ebd0@mom> Date: Sun, 19 Apr 1998 22:24:57 -0500 Reply-To: Butterbuns Sender: Scouts-L Youth Group List From: Butterbuns Subject: Fw: (Fwd) The Rich Family X-To: Scouts Listserv To: Multiple recipients of list SCOUTS-L Status: RO X-Status: Folks, I received this before Easter. I forwarded it to a few friends, then I went on vacation. One friend suggested that I forward it to the list. So, here it is. I hope, that you lovely folks will enjoy it as we have. Dee >> >>The Rich Family in Our church, by Eddie Ogan >> >>I'll never forget Easter 1946. I was 14, my little sister Ocy, 12, >>and my older sister Darlene, 16. We lived at home with our mother, >>and the four of us knew what it was to do without many things. >> >>My dad had died 5 years before, leaving Mom with seven school kids >>to raise and no money. By 1946 my older sisters were married, and my >>brothers had left home. >> >>A month before Easter, the pastor of our church announced that a >>special Easter offering would be taken to help a poor family. He >>asked everyone to save and give sacrificially. When we got home, we >>talked about what we could do. We decided to buy 50 pounds of >>potatoes and live on them for a month. This would allow us to save >>$20 of our grocery money for the offering. When we thought that if >>we kept our electric lights turned out as much as possible and >>didn't listen to the radio, we'd save money on that month's electric >>bill. Darlene got as many house and yard cleaning jobs as possible, >>and both of us baby sat for everyone we could. For 15 cents, we could >>buy enough cotton loops to make three potholders to sell for $1. We >>made $20 on potholders. >> >>That month was one of the best of our lives. Every day we counted >>the money to see how much we had saved. At night we'd sit in the >>dark and talk about how the poor family was going to enjoy having the >>money the church would give them. We had about 80 people in church, >>so we figured that whatever amount of money we had to give, the >>offering would surely be 20 times that much. After all, every Sunday >>the Pastor had reminded everyone to save for the sacrificial >>offering. >> >>The day before Easter, Ocy and I walked to the grocery store and got >>the manager to give us three crisp $20 bills and one $10 bill for all >>our change. We ran all the way home to show Mom and Darlene. We had >>never had so much money before. That night we were so excited we >>could hardly sleep. We didn't care that we wouldn't have new >>clothes for Easter; we had $70 for the sacrificial offering. We >>could hardly wait to get to church! >> >>On Sunday morning, rain was pouring. We didn't own an umbrella, and >>the church was over a mile from our home, but it didn't seem to >>matter how wet we got. Darlene had cardboard in her shoes to fill >>the holes. The cardboard came apart, and her feet got wet. But we >>sat in church proudly. I heard some teenagers talking about the >>Smith girls having on their old dresses. I looked at them in their >>new clothes, and I felt so rich. >> >>When the sacrificial offering was taken, we were sitting on the >>second row from the front. Mom put in the $10 bill, and each of us >>girls put in a $20. As we walked home after church, we sang all the >>way. At lunch Mom had a surprise for us. She had bought a dozen >>eggs, and we had boiled Easter eggs with our fried potatoes! Late >>that afternoon the minister drove up in his car. Mom went to the >>door, talked with him for a moment, and then came back with an >>envelope in her hand. We asked what it was, but she didn't say a >>word. She opened the envelope and out fell a bunch of money. There >>were three crisp $20 bills, one $10 and seventeen $1 bills. Mom put >>the money back in the envelope. We didn't talk, just sat and stared >>at the floor. We had gone from feeling like millionaires to feeling >>like poor white trash. We kids had had such a happy life that we felt >>sorry for anyone who didn't have our mom and dad for parents and a >>house full of brothers and sisters and other kids visiting >>constantly. We thought it was fun to share silverware and see >>whether we got the fork or the spoon that night. We had two knives >>which we passed around to whoever needed them. >> >>I knew we didn't have a lot of things that other people had, but I'd >>never thought we were poor. That Easter Day I found out we were. >>The minister had brought us the money for the poor family, so we must >>be poor. I didn't like being poor. I looked at my dress and worn-out >>shoes and felt so ashamed that I didn't want to go back to church. >>Everyone there probably already knew we were poor! I thought about >>school. I was in the ninth grade and at the top of my class of over >>100 students. I wondered if the kids at school knew we were poor. I >>decided I could quit school since I had finished the eighth grade. >>That was all the law required at that time. >> >>We sat in silence for a long time. Then it got dark, and we went to >>bed. All that week, we girls went to school and came home, and no >>one talked much. Finally on Saturday, Mom asked us what we wanted to >>do with the money. What did poor people do with money? We didn't >>know. >> >>We'd never known we were poor. We didn't want to go to church on >>Sunday, but Mom said we had to. Although it was a sunny day, we >>didn't talk on the way. Mom started to sing, but no one joined in >>and she only sang one verse. >> >>At church we had a missionary speaker. He talked about how churches >>in Africa made buildings out of sun-dried bricks, but they need money >>to buy roofs. He said $100 would put a roof on a church. The >>minister said, "Can't we all sacrifice to help these poor people?" >> >>We looked at each other and smiled for the first time in a week. >>Mom reached into her purse and pulled out the envelope. She passed it >>to Darlene. Darlene gave it to me, and I handed it to Ocy. Ocy put >>it in the offering. When the offering was counted, the minister >>announced that it was a little over $100. The missionary was >>excited. He hadn't expected such a large offering from our small >>church. He said, "You must have some rich people in this church." >>Suddenly it struck us! We had given $87 of that "little over $100." >>We were the rich family in the church! Hadn't the missionary said >>so? From that day on I've never been poor again. I've always >>remembered how rich I am because I have Jesus. >> >>Just A Sheep! >> >> ,. >> __.AE _) >> <_,)AE.-oa\ >> /AE ( \ >> _.-----..,-ee (eeoe--^ >> // | >> (| ee; , | >> \ ;.----/ ,/ >> ) // / | |\ \ >> \ \\ee\ | |/ / >> \ \\ \ | |\/ >> eeoe eeoe eeoeee >>Have a Great Day with Jesus! >> >> >> >> > > > > > >