In spite of the fun and laughter this Christmas, 13-year-old First Class Scout Frank Wilson was not content. It was true he had received all the presents he wanted and he enjoyed a traditional Christmas Eve reunion with relatives. Nevertheless, Frank was not happy because this was his first Christmas without his big brother, Steve, who during the year, was killed in the war. Frank deeply missed his brother and their close companionship.
Feeling restless, Frank said goodbye to his relatives and explained to his parents that he was leaving to go see a friend; and from there he could walk home. Since it was cold outside, Frank put on his new plaid jacket. It was his FAVORITE gift from Grandma. He placed all the other presents he received on his new sled. Then Frank headed out into the night, hoping to find his Senior Patrol Leader of his Boy Scout Troop. Though rich in wisdom, his leader lived in “The Flats,” the section of town where most of the poor lived, and he did odd jobs to help support his family.
Failing to find his friend at home, Frank hiked down the street toward his home. As he walked he caught glimpses of trees and decorations in many of the small houses. Then, through one front window, he glimpsed a shabby room with limp stockings hanging over an empty fireplace… a woman was seated nearby… weeping. The stockings reminded him of the way he and his brother had always hung theirs side by side.
A sudden thought struck Frank: he had not done his ‘good deed’ for the day. Before the impulse passed, he knocked on the door. Yes, the despondent voice of the woman answered. May I come in, asked Frank? You are very welcome, she said. Seeing his sled full of gifts and assuming he was making a collection, she said, but I have no food or gifts to donate. Her voice crackling… I have nothing for my own children.
No mam, that’s not why I am here, Frank replied. Please choose whatever presents you would like for your children from the sled. With a look of joy in her eyes, she selected some candies, a game, the toy airplane, and a puzzle. When she took the new Scout flashlight, Frank almost cried out but he held back. Finally, the stockings were full.
Won’t you tell me your name, she asked, as Frank was turning to leave? Just call me the CHRISTMAS SCOUT. Amazed at the generosity, she replied, may God bless you Christmas Scout!
The most worth-while thing is to try to put happiness into the lives of others.
Lord Robert Stephenson Smyth Baden-Powell, Chief Scout of the World
The visit left Frank touched, and with an unexpected flicker of joy in his heart. He understood that his sorrow from missing his brother was not the only sorrow in the world. Before he left the Flats, he had given away the remainder of his gifts. Even his favorite plaid jacket was gone to a shivering young boy. Now Frank trudged homeward, cold, and uneasy. How could he possibly explain to his parents that he had given ALL his presents away? What would they say? Would they even understand?
Frank arrived home, entered the house. Seeing his empty arms and no jacket on his back he was immediately asked by his father, where is your jacket son… where are all your presents? I gave them all away, Frank answered. What… the airplane from Aunt Susan… your coat from Grandma… your Scout flashlight? What do you mean, we thought you were happy with your gifts! How could you be so impulsive… how will we explain to the relatives who gave so much love shopping for you? His father was firm… you made your choice, son. We cannot afford any more presents. I think you should go to bed now.
With his brother gone, and his family frustrated and disappointed in him, Frank suddenly felt dreadfully alone. He had not expected a reward for his generosity; Scouting taught him that simply performing a good deed always should be its own reward. He did not want his gifts back; however, he wondered if he would ever again truly recapture the joy in his life. Frank thought of his brother and sobbed himself to sleep.
The next morning, he came downstairs to find his parents listening to Christmas music on the radio. Then the announcer spoke: we have a wonderful Christmas story from The Flats. A crippled boy down there has a new sled, another youngster has a fine plaid jacket, and several families report their children were made happy last night by gifts from a teenage boy who simply called himself the Christmas Scout. No one could identify him, but the children of the Flats claim that the Christmas Scout was a personal representative of old Santa Claus himself.
Frank felt his father’s arms go around his shoulders, and he saw his mother smiling through her tears. Why didn’t you tell us, son? We didn’t understand. We are so proud of you. Christmas carols came over the airwaves again filling the room with music… Praises sing to God the King, and peace to men on Earth.
