Monday, June 25, 2012

Camp


I didn't grow up in a camp-going family.  The economics of it were just not something that worked for us -- in other words, it cost a lot.  Once or twice I went to church camp, which if you're Southern Baptist is like a whole week of Vacation Bible School plus the added "enhancement" of 4-H style dormitory lodging.

When our kids were very little, they went to day camp, mostly with sports themes or dance themes or chess themes or [fill in the blank] theme of their hobby or interest du jour. 


At sport camp at DUMC

I think the backdrop is adorable.  
And they went to VBS at our church too.  Where they had snack time (goldfish crackers served in Dixie cups) and story time (Noah and Moses and Daniel in the Lion’s Den) and craft time (each day's artwork laid in the hallway so as not to be forgotten).  More often than not, I was teaching the X-year -olds in some room down the hall and we finished up in time to head home for lunch.  


 A handprint fish made in VBS.
“Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will make you fishers of men.”
~Matthew 4:19
Finally, however, when McKenzie was 10 (practically a senior citizen, I learned, in the summer camp world), we sent her to sleep-away camp for 5 days.  The camp was a magical place, like something in a movie (think Parent Trap - before Lindsay Lohan lost her way), nestled in the mountains of North Carolina. 


See what I mean?  Movie set, right?
From the setting, to the activities, to the counselors, it was everything you'd want and hope for, and she loved it.  


That's her the in the green sweatshirt, second from the right. 
So much so that she went back the next year for 10 days and finally in her third year she went again for 10 days. After that, the camp offered only month-long sessions for teenagers, and that seemed both expensive and lengthy, and thus ended her camp career.  

Now both our kids are slightly introverted and homebodies so it was with great reluctance that we sent our son to camp this past weekend. As we packed, I was reminded how lengthy and unforgiving those supply lists can be ("there's no way this kid needs 10 pairs of underwear for 6 days of camp") but I was comforted by reflecting on our daughter's experience and praying that his would not be all that different. By all accounts, he's at a really great camp, with generations of attendees singing its praises, almost always using phrases like "life-changing."  

So this past Saturday my husband took our son to camp.  Actually, he drove him 3 hours to the bus that took him the additional six and half hours to camp. So yes, it better be good.  And I find myself wondering if he's having a good time.  Does he like it?  Is he making friends?  Was it a mistake to wait so late in his adolescence to thrust him into this kind of overnight experience?  And, as I so often do, as my children get older, I find myself longing for the days of day camp and VBS.  

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