Arrow of Light

Now it was ending. We had begun the journey in the cafeteria of Bel Air School some five years earlier, with Ben clutching a flyer and listening as well as a six year old boy can. The tall, bespectacled man in the tan shirt had told Ben and a number of equally wide-eyed boys about the opportunity they had and the adventures ahead. When the man asked if we had any questions, Ben’s hand shot up.

“Well,” he began, “I like to have fun. Do you get to have fun if you join?”

The man in the tan shirt smiled. “You bet you do,” he replied.

He was right. Five years later, in the gymnasium of Christ the King Lutheran church, three blocks north of where the journey had began, another man in a tan shirt asked Ben and nine other boys to come forward. The boys were bedecked in their uniforms, most covered with the various badges, pins and totems that symbolized the five year journey they had completed. “This is a great group of guys,” the man said. “They have worked hard and now they are ready to receive the highest award of Cub Scouting, the Arrow of Light.”

When my son is really happy, his smile has enough candlepower to light Fenway Park. This was one of those moments. As he clutched the arrow he had made a month before, he approached the “advancement bridge” that Cub Scouts cross each year as they move from Tiger to Wolf to Bear to Webelos. He had crossed the bridge each year before, but now there were members of Troop 399 on the other side, waiting to greet him. Jill and Maria were ready with the camera to capture the moment.

As I watched, the memories rattled in my brain like atoms at Fermilab. There he was, jumping off the hay wagon to climb the sand hill at a starlit Bunker Hills Park, while the parents marveled at the half dozen deer browsing along the trail, oblivious to the screams of delight from the candy-addled children. There he was, combing the wooded trails of Driftwood Park, discovering the remnants of a teenager party that had happened some time before. There he was, glowing like the Citgo sign over the Green Monster, holding the miniature sled he had built. There he was, giving a silent fist pump of celebration after receiving the trophy for second place at the Pinewood Derby. And there he was, amazing the instructor (and his father) at Webelos Activity Day by being the only Scout in the room who knew the identity and works of Aaron Copland.

As the ceremony ended, Ben and his family met briefly with the Scoutmaster for Troop 399. Just as it was five years before, we watched a brief presentation on what being a Boy Scout is like. When the scoutmaster asked if we had any questions, Ben’s hand shot up.

“So,” he began, “I hear we get to go camping a lot. Is that true?”

The scoutmaster smiled. “You can go camping every month, if you’d like.”

Somehow, I suspect Ben will try.