Scoutmaster Minute: T’was the night before Christmas

T’was the night before Christmas and all through the tents, not a creature was stirring, everyone was just spent. The stockings were hung by the fire with care, in hopes that the Great Scout Master soon would be there. The Scouts were all nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of Hobo meals danced in their heads. Steve Hance in his neckerchief and Jim Smith in his night cap, had just settled in for a long winter’s nap.

When out in the woods there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my cot to see what was the matter. Away to the tent flap I flew like a flash Unzipped the zipper and undid the clasp. The ice on the trees and the new fallen snow, made me shiver from cold when the wind began to blow. Then what to my wondering eyes should appear? A miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer. With a burly old driver so lively and dapper, I knew in a moment it was the Great Scout Master. More rapid than patrol Leaders his courses they came, as he whistled and shouted and called out their names. On Tenderfoot, on 2nd Class, on 1st Class and Star, on Life Scout, on Eagle, on Ventures and explorers. To the top of the tent, to the top of the dining hall, Now dash away, dash away, dash away all.

As wet clothes before the scout tents fly, when the heat from the fire goes whisking by. So up to the dining hall the courses they flew, With a sleigh full of badges and the Great Scout Master too. And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof, the tapping and clawing of each little hoof. As I made my way to the dining hall with nary a sound, in through the door the Great Scout Master went with a bound.

He was dressed all in kaki from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all ironed and neatly put. A bundle of badges he had in his pack, He looked like a hiker unrolling his knapsack. His eyes, how they glistened! His smile, it did glow. His cheeks were all rosy from the cold and the snow. His uniform demanded respect, I could see, I could hardly believe what was happening to me. A piece of beef jerky he held tight in his teeth, And the light from the fireplace encircled his head like a wreath. His Scout Master patch glowed like a star in the sky, and his Troop 765 numbers soon caught my eye. He was tall and rugged, a right jolly old man, I laughed when I saw him, just because I can.

A wink of his eye and a nod of head, soon led me to know that I must get back to bed. He spoke not a word and turned with a jerk, and laid out all the Achievements the Scouts earned from all their hard work. And placing his three fingers in the air as he should, He recited the Scout Oath as quiet as he could. He jumped in his sleigh, to his team gave a shout, you know, he didn’t even wake one Scout.

But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight, “Merry Christmas to all and to all Scouts…


Mr. Gnadinger (Mr. G)