The Passing of a Scouter

I received the sad news of the passing of another of our Scouting brothers and thought this was an apt verse to share:

He was getting old and paunchy

And his hair was falling fast,

And he sat around the Scout Hall,

Telling stories of the past.

Of a camps that he once organised

And the deeds that he had done,

In his exploits with his buddies;

They were heroes, every one.

And 'tho sometimes to his scouts

His tales became a joke,

All his buddies listened quietly

For they knew whereof he spoke.

But we'll hear his tales no longer,

For old John has passed away,

And the world's a little poorer

For a Scouter died today.

He won’t be mourned by many,

Just his children and his wife.

For he lived an ordinary,

Very quiet sort of life.

He held a job and raised a family,

Going quietly on his way;

And the world won't note his passing,

'Tho a Scouter died today.

When politicians leave this earth,

Their bodies lie in state,

While thousands note their passing,

And proclaim that they were great.

Papers tell of their life stories

From the time that they were young

But the passing of a Scouter

Often goes unnoticed, and unsung.

Is the greatest contribution

To the welfare of our land,

Someone who breaks his promise

And cons his fellow man?

Or the ordinary fellow

Who in times of hardship and strife,

Steps up to serve his country

And offers up his time?

The politician's stipend

And the style in which he lives,

Are often disproportionate,

To the service that he gives.

While the ordinary Scouter,

Who offered up his all,

Is paid off with a thank you

And not even a pension, small.

It is not the politicians

With their compromise and ploys,

Who won for us the scouts

That our country now enjoys.

Should you find yourself in danger,

With whatever risks at hand,

Would you really want some cop-out,

With his ever waffling stand?

Or would you want a Scouter--

His God, his country, his fellow man,

Just a common Scouter,

Who would do his best until the end?

He was just a common Scouter,

And his ranks are growing thin,

But his presence should remind us

We may need his like again.

If we cannot do him honour

While he's here to hear the praise,

Then at least let's give him homage

At the ending of his days.

Perhaps just a simple headline

In the paper that might say:

"OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING,

A SCOUTER DIED TODAY..."