Summer camp fun began the year I finished second grade. I went alone my first year. That year I lay on my bunk staring at the bare rafters feeling the breeze through the screens only windows and fought back waves of homesickness. By design daytime activities distracted me. Where else but at summer camp does anyone use long plastic string to sew together leather coin purses? It did not matter if my plastic strips twisted, I completed mine and proudly showed my parents.
I have no clue what happened to that purse or all but one of the the plaster plaques I painted through the years. On that one I carefully painted the little rose with orange and the tiny grapes purple before using black to highlight the words “Prayer changes things.” It hung in my home for decades for the memories it holds, and because I believe what it says.
The Bible Camp directors divided us into teams for the week and told us to choose a name and team cheer with one rule, “You have to use something from the Bible for your team name and cheer.”
My team did exactly that. We took that verse from Revelation about God vomiting out lukewarm believers and called our time “Vomit.” Our team cheer was, “Regurgitate, regurgitate, Yeah! Yeah! Vomit!” Perhaps I made a suggestion but it has been a long time since I was a Vomiteer. I don’t recall any future camps where the campers choose a team name.
Once we had a chuckwagon breakfast with hot cocoa, biscuits and jam. Bypassing the dining hall, we went to an open field for breakfast. Listening to the birds and feeling the quiet breeze, we sipped hot cocoa and nibbled on biscuits. Why did the hot cocoa seem so special back then? Now, I only like the idea of hot cocoa, not the taste.
For many years we came home singing songs written by cheerful Uncle Curly (of course he was bald and we called all the leaders “Uncle” or “Aunt”). His songs had a pep and bounce that perhaps originated from his having played in a tavern before he became a believer. We took those songs home, taught them in our churches and sang them for years.
After a morning of Bible classes and then stories from the missionary, we filled the afternoon with competitions, foot races, basketball, baseball and swimming. The most competitive guys roiled around the pool water in the greased watermelon contest.
Back in the day, teen camp ended with a dress-up supper banquet with an option for the boys and girls to sit together as dates. Thus I had my first ever date. Such a flurry in the girls’ cabins as we put on the Easter dresses we brought. As we pulled out nylons and dress shoes we discussed, “Do we kiss them afterward as a ‘thank you’ for asking us?”
“No way!” I said. However, I did awkwardly allow him to introduce me to his parents before he went home. I never saw him again. I do not recall his name, only that he quietly stood taller than me.
For the banquet, each team decorated a table. With limited means and time the decor came from onsite items. Besides the predictable crosses, one team built a dollhouse sized stone chapel with landscaping all the way around it. I have no idea how anyone ever sat at that table to eat. In the black and white picture it appears to cover half the table.
My parents gave me money for crafts and the canteen. I bought many crafts and a few candies. I always came home with money, memories and the impact of a week of speakers, activities and time away from life’s daily routine.