Firm as the Mountains Around Us

When I was about 13 years old, Dad was called to be Scoutmaster in our Union First Ward Scout Troop. So far as I can remember, this was the first and only time Dad had a calling in the Church while I was growing up. Dad took the calling seriously, and was a bit upset and disappointed that others, especially the boys in the troop, did not. His predecessor in the calling was Nick Mascaro. Nick's son had served as the Senior Patrol Leader, so it was somewhat assumed that I would serve in the capacity as well. Dad was a good Scoutmaster, but I wasn't a very good Senior Patrol Leader.

Near the time that Dad was to be released (I think he served for about two years, until I was nearly 15), he and I went to the June YMMIA Conference Saturday session. (In those days, the YMMIA/YWMIA organizations held a June conference.) I do not remember the theme the conference addressed. I am not certain what the speakers said. I am certain - very certain - and impressed - very impressed - about what happened as we sang the closing hymn.

The song was Firm as the Mountains Around Us. I had loved that song before this experience, but now it is one of my absolute favourite hymns. We were sitting in Kingsbury Hall with about a thousand other men and young men. We started to sing. I suppose that I was surprised that Dad joined in. (He always had a pleasing tenor voice, and he certainly could sing well, but I wasn't certain that he knew the song, or felt enough unity with the group to join in singing.) He sang with the rest of us.

I was really getting into the singing and I guess that I was a bit wrapped up in myself. I looked over at Dad as the last verse was ending. To this day, I can remember the feeling I had when I saw tears in Dad's eyes as he sang.

When I feel like judging Dad (or anyone else), it helps to remember what Dad showed me when I was a boy of 14.