The picture was of 8 smiling boys in Cub Scout uniforms. Some of the boys obviously had Down's Syndrome or other handicaps, but one look at their huge smiles made the pride they felt obvious. The look on their faces as they stood tall in their uniforms was priceless. They were cub scouts, and the uniform was never worn with more pride. I instantly wanted to be part of something that made these boys feel so important.

I had just started my first job as a computer programmer at the York Bank. Because of work I moved the 22 miles to the York Area and I was looking for something constructive to do with my spare time. As I was browsing through the paper, I noticed the picture along with a small article. The article explained that the den had recently started and was held at a church in south York. I cut out the article and set it aside. A couple of days later the picture was still sitting on the end table. I crumbled it up and threw it away, or so I thought.

A few weeks went by and while I was cleaning behind the couch I found a crumbled up piece of newspaper. Eight smiling faces were beaming out from the crinkled newsprint. I couldn't put the picture away. I telephoned the number under the picture and set up a meeting that would permanently change the way I look at people and at myself.

We were to meet at the church where the scout meetings were held. I was never very comfortable at interviews and was afraid I would come off bad. With all the bad things in the newspapers how could I convince them of my intentions? Why was I here? I did not have much experience with scouting or dealing with children with handicaps. What qualifications did I really have? The article wasn't asking for help, why should they trust me?

I timidly opened the door marked "Minister's Office' and peeked in. The minister stood up from behind his desk, introduced himself as Pete Seiler and shook my hand. He also introduced me to the two other people in the room, Gary Jones, the scout master, and Virginia Houser, the special needs den leader.

Pete said that he had recently been transferred to the area and was looking for activities for his son, Peter. Since Cub Scout meetings were held at his church he thought it would be a good idea to start a Cub Scout Den that Peter could join. He looked within his own church for leadership and Virginia volunteered to help.

As they talked it became obvious that they were as nervous as I was. They had run a police report on me and contacted my boss at work. They wanted to believe me but were skeptical of a young man appearing out of no where. I tried to present a confident front and answer their questions as positively as possible, but I was never very good at interviews. We all muddled through. After the interview they told me that they would give me try.

That Tuesday I entered the room for my first meeting. I wasn't sure what to expect. I didn't expect 7 boys calmly sitting at a table. No one was bouncing off the walls or out of control. My confidence grew. All of the boys were mobile and could speak. None of them would be considered severely handicapped.

Because the den had been active for a few weeks, I looked to the other leaders for guidance. They said I should work with David. David was a short, heavy 8 year old with Downs Syndrome. He must have weighed 140 pd. I prided myself in being "good with children" and confidently approached David. I started talking to David, but got no response. The rest of the boys started working on a craft. I calmly attempted to get David to join the group. Popsicle sticks flew everywhere. I tried my best to get David to cooperate but the more I coaxed the more he resisted. I tried all the things I would normally do to get kids to cooperate. The only response I got was David throwing himself on the floor and kicking the wall. I tried to pick him up back into his chair, but was unsuccessful. I spent the next 50 minutes desperately trying to get David to join in, or at least not hurt himself or anyone else. I never felt more relieved as I did when the parents arrived to take their scout's home.

Afterwards, I felt sick. How could have I done worse? Every scout did what was expected, except for the one I was helping. I was convinced that I was in over my head and they were going to tell me not to come back. At that point I really didn't care, maybe this wasn't for me.

I spent allot of time soul searching that week. Maybe I wasn't cut out for this. They didn't really know me. I didn't really know them. If I never went back we would all just go on with our lives. If I couldn't get one scout to cooperate, what good was I?

Something inside wouldn't let me give up. I went back.

Later I found out that they were having trouble with David and were hoping I would be able to handle him better. I wasn't the miracle worker they were hoping for. We were all learning as we went. We did eventually change our approach toward David and let him join in at his speed, without pressure.

David did get much better but he still had his bouts. At times, sometimes for no apparent reason, he would throw himself on the ground and his entire body would go limp. He would shut himself out from anything you said. We soon learnt that the best way to handle this was to ignore him. He would eventually be lured back into the fun.

David also knew how to use his weight and size to his advantage. One time we were at a Cub Scout Day Camp and David grabbed two scouts from a different troop and held them both against a wall. We never found out why he did this, but it's good he got them coming out of the bathroom and not going in.

As we all got to know each other, the mood changed from one of doubt, to one of cautious optimism, and finally to a fun place. We all looked forward to Tuesday nights. The enthusiasm was contagious. Even David was opening up and joining in, at least most of the time. Many great memories were formed that first year.

Once a month all the Cub Scout den's meet for a pack meeting. At each pack meeting one Den is responsible for the opening and the closing. We had a grand scheme of a play about a tooth with a toothache. We made cardboard cutouts for each of the characters, a healthy tooth, a tooth with a toothache, a toothbrush, toothpaste, various vegetables, and the villain, candy. We gave David the starring role. He stood in the middle of the stage holding a cardboard tooth. When we prompted him he cried because his tooth hurt. Virginia read the story and the rest of us tried to direct the scouts on and off the stage. Half the boys didn't want to leave the stage once they were out and the other half wanted to leave as soon as they could. Our play was closer to the Three Stooges then a Broadway hit, but to us it was a huge success.

The following November we mustered up our courage and decided to take the boys camping at the local Boy Scout camp. The group of leaders, along with some of the parents, packed up our things and headed off into the wilderness. It was at the camp when Pete approached me. He said he wanted to start a camp. If he could get a core group to commit to helping, he would move forward with the plans. We all enthusiastically agreed.

While plans were progressing for the camp we were approached about a new scout joining our den. Matt S. and his mother Caryn arrived one night for a "preview". Matt S., who is non-verbal, but not non-vocal, had a major fit. He yelled, kicked, pumped his elbow against his side and bit his hand.

After the meeting Caryn was waiting for us in the hallway. She had a look on her face that expected rejection. Virginia and I exchanged glances that we both knew meant, "We have to try". The whole point of this den was to provide a place for kids who had no other place to go. We did not intend to say 'no' because a boy seemed a little (or maybe allot) more difficult. We not only told Caryn that Matt S. could join our den, but we also encouraged her to sign him up for camp.

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