Cub scout letters to soldiers

(December 8, 2010)

A few weeks before Christmas I was looking for a good service opportunity for my cub scouts, but nothing seemed to pan out.  We had made cookies the week before, so taking cookies to someone seemed lame.  There was no snow to shovel, and it was too wet to rake leaves for the elderly.  It was too cold to pick up trash.  We had one too many singing-hating boys to Christmas carol anyone.  The time was ticking down to the moment when six balls of energy would descend on my doorstep.  In my desperation, I almost invented Elective 25: “Clean Your Den Leader’s Bathroom for a Christmas Service.”

But almost at the last minute a great idea came to me; we could write Christmas cards for soldiers serving overseas.  It was the perfect project, since two of the boys’ dads have served overseas in the last few years.  

When the boys arrived, I let them make up plates of nachos for a snack.  After 20 minutes had passed, I had to call it quits on the “snacking,” since my six scouts (times three servings each) had managed to take out a huge two-pound bag of tortilla chips, an additional two pounds of grated cheese, a jar of salsa, and one teaspoon of beans amongst them.

With their bellies full, the scouts spoke not a word, but went straight to their work (well, sort of).  Armed with construction paper and sharpies, the boys resumed their weekly challenge of who could say the silliest thing in the loudest possible voice, and not focus on their task. 

A really funny thing about 9-year-old boys is that they have no issue with how stinky it gets when they take off their shoes, or how nonsensical their jokes are, but when you ask them to write in a thank you card, they suddenly clam up, and spend as much time covering their work so no one will see their ever-so-personal message: “Thank you.  From, David” written in cursive handwriting, and sometimes accompanied by a picture of a light saber or basketball.

I didn’t get to supervise the card-making very closely, since I was busy sweeping grated cheese out of every crevice of my hardwood floor and trying not to look like I have OCD…but, seriously, how can nine year olds drop SO MUCH FOOD on the floor?  

Later that night, when not a creature was stirring, I finally stopped to read the cards.  I know I didn’t ask for “Media Release” forms on these, so I won’t be contacting Hallmark, but I hope no one from the BSA sues me for sharing some of the messages destined for a few lucky soldiers.  Need I say that all the original spelling and punctuation has been preserved?

Letter #1:

I am thankful for you awsome and honorabable and brave soldiers.

God bless America!

Call me! [phone number, including area code]

--[First, middle and last name], age 9

Letter #2:

my dad went to war.  His name is [name] have you met him. You guys rock. Merry Christmas! Love, [full name], age 9

Letter #3:

dear mr. soldier dude

you are doing a good job serving our country.  I bet you miss your family.  I wish you a merry Christmas.  Thank you for defending our country.  See you later mr. soilder dude. [full name, address, phone]

Letter #4:

dear soilder,

thank you for giving us freedom You are doing good. I know you miss your family.  Merry Christmas soilder I hope you do good I hope you kill all the bad guys and win look at the back. Love, [name].

[On the back was a full-length picture of himself he had cut out of one of the photos we had for our den scrapbook]

In hindsight, I should have taped up a big sign with the correct spelling of “Soldier” on it, and we’re definitely not having nachos again for a while, but I think it was a good activity.  

“Happy Christmas to all [soldiers and their families] and to all a good night.”