I’ll never forget that rainy day I wore my Scout uniform to school not knowing our meeting was cancelled. Those were halcyon days before group text messages and reverse 911s. So there I sat in the cafeteria, the one lone webelo in my pressed shirt with kerchief round my neck, ashamed. How did everyone else know but me? Kids can be killingly cruel. They were. I earned the invisible badge of longsuffering that day that took its own sweet time. I later learned that to be a fruit of the Spirit, a virtue that makes us like God. But in grade school you want nothing more than to be like everyone else. And you can, until someone forgets you. Then you begin to become someone else.