I miss summer camp
There is this girl at our church who spends a lot of time in our home. She is almost thirteen and is like a daughter. This morning I sent her off to church camp—her first one with our church—many, many miles away to the coast of North Carolina. It will be the first time she’s ever been to the beach. Now I know how real parents feel when their kids goes away.
I remember when I was young summer meant church camp. Even into my early adult and married life I went to camp. It changed my life. I met Jesus there when I was nine years old. I met my wife there when I was 21. I remember as a child, our camp was in the middle of nowhere in south Georgia. Camp was strict back then. We couldn’t wear shorts and it was years before we had a mud hole to swim in. No swimming pool or anything like that. It didn’t matter—we had fun. We didn’t know any better than to complain about wearing stuff that made us hot. After all, we were kids and we were resilient. Heat didn’t seem to bother us as much back then.
The drill was up at seven, breakfast, class, crafts, lunch, nap, play in the afternoon, supper, worship service, hour of free time, then lights out. We played softball in the afternoons. Sometimes we played “half-ball”. It’s like baseball where we took a rubber ball, cut it in half, and used a broomstick for a bat. Sounds odd but it was fun.
I remember the worship services. We would get there early and gather around the piano and sing. Our favorite song was “Down On Our Knees” and we sang it every evening. It was like the camp song. I remember the preacher would wear a coat and tie, even though the congregation was almost entirely kids. I also remember that none of the camp was air-conditioned. So you can just imagine…
Before lights out we would take our showers. Only that first year, I was shy and I never took one. When my parents picked me up, I had beads of dirt on my neck. I didn’t like changing clothes either. I took my folded shirts and pants and rubbed them on the floor to make them look dirty, then I put them back into my suitcase—still folded. Needless to say, it didn’t take much detective work to realize my ruse.
Many years later at a camp in South Carolina, we congregated in the assembly area for our first meeting. We sat in these wooden chairs with a bar across the bottom where a person behind could rest their feet. In front of me was a pretty teenage girl that hopefully, I would get to meet later. At a point in the meeting we were told to stand. A young girl who was sitting next to me picked that time to say something. I remained seated as she talked to me and the pretty girl in front of me stood up. When she did, the weight of my feet pushed the chair into the back of her legs. She gave me a look but it was not the kind I was hoping for. Well, so much for my chances of meeting her later.
Later that week I was pulling lifeguard duty. We swam in a lake and there wasn’t a lifeguard seat so I sat on top of a boat house. So I was sitting there watching everyone swimming when this teenage girl climbed up the ladder and sat next to me. It was the chair girl! I was scared to death! But we chatted and hit it off. Four years later, (and four more years of camp) we got married.
Together we went to camp and a few years later moved to North Carolina and went to camp there. It’s been a lot of years now since we’ve been to camp. Life has gotten in the way. But I still get excited when the others go and talk about it. This year is a little more special because of our little sweetheart we care so much for. I received a text message letting me know that she got special recognition for some good things she had done today.
I miss camp. I miss her, too.
