Little Lost Boy
As a mother, tonight my heart is aching. I wish I could somehow harden myself, somehow not care when these things happen, but ever since my uterus hardened and formed with a child, I have found myself a sucker for just about every sad story where a child is involved. Those of you who know my sardonic, bitchy persona might be amazed. Those of you who really KNOW me, know my heart is on my sleeve.
Tonight, on the news, we learned another young boy is lost in the rugged Uintah mountains, another victim of Boy Scout Camp. It ain’t the first time. Here in Utah, Boy Scout Camp is a given. You go, your children go, and you have faith in the Savior to keep your children safe. Of course, if the leaders are 45, out of shape, and terrain-challenged, oh well. The leaders have the Mormon Priesthood. Surely that is enough to lead them out safely. On the television news, which I watched through tears, the father, also choking back tears, said he was relying on the “Savior” to keep his boy safe. I understand this. But what I don’t understand is why he willingly let his son go into these rugged mountains without properly trained leaders?
Yes, I realize our local Boy Scout troops are almost exclusively Mormon. The LDS Church long ago adopted the BS program as one of their own. Most of the time, nothing bad happens in Scouting. But sometimes it does. This is the SECOND boy in nine months LOST in those SAME mountains.
The other boy has never been found.
Isn’t sending other young boys out into the mountain with untrained leaders–relying on the Grace of God to keep them safe–the equivalent of handling poisonous snakes and relying on God to keep you safe when you are taunting them to bite you?
I go camping with my children many, many times every summer. I have never ONCE lost them, but I also don’t allow them to travel in uncharted, rough terrain.
Oh people. God helps those that help themselves.
My heart is heavy.
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Update: The young Scout has still not been found.
