Holding Hands and Writing Letters
Self Consciousness fades in the light of a summer at camp. It is a beautiful effect when we practice unselfishness every day. Our hearts focus on others rather than ourselves, leading to joyful moments that would never be experienced in the “real world”.
Holding hands as we walk to class, weaving flowers into each others hair, writing on each others limbs, rolling in the grass, wading in the water… most of these things would embarrass in a school setting but at camp they are completely natural.
The priorities of camp are different at home. Things like hand written letters for instance. At camp we write a lot. Our outgoing mail bag is a delight to our local post office… huge 50 pound canvas bags filled with hand written letters are an inspiration to the post master… I suspect he feels like he works for Amazon most of the year, our letters are an encouraging reminder of his “real” job!
The girls write a lot (Hadden’s Blog from yesterday arose from her free time musings). They keep journals, they pass notes during rest hour, they write friends, they write parents… and they write Plane Letters.
Plane Letters deserve a paragraph, for they are meaningful to those who write and those who recieve them. Always written in the last days of camp, though that date seems to arive earlier every summer. So many letters are written by some that they must start the process many days before camp is over- holding each letter after it is completed to be delivered on Banquet Day. Even I get plane letters, and they are a highlight of my year for they are always encouraging. A plane letter is intended to be opened after camp, usually in the car as you are pulling out of camp with a breaking heart. Tears blur the words as they are read, sometimes tears stain the page when they are written; obvious marks of a friendship deeply experienced. They are wonderful, cherished reminders of the “good old days” when life was celebrated hand in hand. Days that were lived fully in the moment when the letter was written but are fading memories at the time of reading. Writing a plane letter is harder than you think, for it requires a lot of focused time invested before the time of writing… time spent rolling in the grass and talking on a bench as the sun slowly sinks at the end of a really fun day. Plane letters are wonderful because they reference wonderful things.
I am getting nostalgic.
Sorry.
Can’t help it.
We have entered the teary time of camp. I misted up a dozen times during the production of Godspell last night. Such an amazing show. If your camper was on the cast or crew, make sure you find out all about what they did… moments of genius were evident on stage. The standing ovation was well earned… and as Margaret and I walked home under the light of a moon that will be full in the next day or two we found words not necessary. Camp is a good place. Camp is good in a way that is hard to explain. Good in a way that brings tears.
I find myself pausing when I speak to the girls at this point of the summer. Genuine feelings of appreciation mix with poignant feelings of loss… the best word to describe what camp is like at these moments is good. A simple word that is rarely used correctly.
When God created everything, after each day He pronounced “It is Good”. That is a BIG WORD. Rarely do we have occasion to use such a word appropriately, but camp seems to fit the moment nicely. Camp requires a 100% effort from hundreds of people for weeks on end, their efforts are usually unsung and often unrecognized. Counselors do this and so do campers… investing their very selves into this place without hesitation not because of what they get in return. They do it because of who gets the fruit of their investment… God Himself. We live work and play in this beautiful place for the Glory of God. Most of us have discovered this surprising truth about unselfishness and it is beautiful. Good indeed.
Thank You.
- Breakfast: French Toast and Sausage Links
- Lunch: BLT’s
- Dinner: Christmas Eve Prime Rib, Twice Baked Potatoes, Glazed Carrots (It is Christmas Eve in July, you know).
EP is Closing Vespers.
