A boy's first knife

It's an important time in a young boy's life when he gets his first pocket knife. 

My first pocket knife was a two blade jack knife. It had a brown handle with small silver shield on the handle. My Grandfather took me down to our local Target store and we picked it out.  I was 7 years old. I was SO proud. Then I screwed up and lost it.  I had it in my pocket, where it had lived from the day it was given to me. I was playing at a friends house when it fell out. My "friend" grabbed it up from the ground and ran inside his house. I ran after begging him to "Give it back!" He didn't. In fact he lied to his Mom and told her he didn't have my knife. His older sister took his side too, even though she knew he did have it.  I was beside myself crying. I walked slowly home and sat on  he front steps feeling awful.  A few minutes later the older sister came up the street on her bike. She said something about giving back my knife and she threw it. From the street. My heart leaped at the idea that I would get my most treasured item back! She didn't throw it very hard and it fell into the street before it got to me. It fell in to the street and right down a storm drain. I was crushed.

In the short time I did have that knife I had the wonderful experience of sharing time with Grandpa. We sat in his back yard and whittled away at the many maple branches that fell from the huge tree in the yard. Even now I can remember how smooth those twigs and branches felt after we stripped them of their bark. The fresh green scent that came up from the bark curls gathered around our feet.  I knew I was doing something with Grampa that"kid stuff". This was important stuff, grown up stuff. Even at that young age I could feel the seriousness of handling a pocket knife safely.

Tonight I had the privilege of working with a group of cub scouts on their Bear Claws adventure. We learned safe handling and care for pocket knives. How to cut with their knives, how to sharpen, even the correct way to hand their knife to someone else.  I don't know if they picked up on the seriousness of the lessons, I know from the smiles and nods I received their Dads and Grand Dads did.

Pictured at the beginning of this post is my son's first pocket knife, an Opinel No. 6.