Browsing through the photo album brought me to this photo I snapped last year on my way home, passing through Salem with the setting sun glowing through the trees and reflecting off the pond. The snow on the ground, the leafless tree silhouettes and the bench in the shadows recall memories of winter camps with my sons and other boys. In fact, today I shook hands with and hugged a very tall, very slender former scout of mine whose younger brother passed away at the age of 24 last week. The memories of the difficult times with a much younger BJ whom I had to send home from a campout, yet who later became my Junior Assistant Scout Master and earned his Eagle, flooded back and I was reminded of the opportunities we have to offer friendship to those around us and perhaps help them along life's byways. And, perhaps, to judge less harshly those whose moccasins we've never worn.
To change the tone a bit, I'll anticipate Justin's comment relating to my last sentence with the altered version of the proverb: Before you judge a man, walk a mile in his shoes—that way he'll be barefoot and you'll be a mile away before he realizes you've stolen his shoes.
