Ozark Mountains - grace grits and gardening

School will be out for summer in a matter of weeks and parents will be shipping the kiddos off to camp somewhere. As kids, we went to church camp at Ravenden Springs, nestled in the Ozark Mountains. It was an idyllic setting. Just imagine Camp Walden, that perfect summer camp in The Parent Trap where identical twins Hallie and Annie accidentally met. Now take away the lake and fun activities like canoeing and horseback riding and archery and add tons of hellfire, brimstone and Kumbaya. AllDayLong. Now you have the picture.

Seriously, we had a great time there – lots of girls from our home town bunking together in one cabin – how can that not be fun? The beds were rustic, like a prison, but we didn’t care. It was a one week slumber party! Toothpaste in the nose for the camper who fell asleep first, shaving cream fights – fun times! Who got the top bunks? That was always a big thing. We stayed up late at night writing letters to our friends left behind at home, as if we would never see them again. I’m sure we made it home before those letters. It was just a one week camp.

But it seemed waaaaayyy longer. I knew it was a church camp, but I wasn’t expecting preaching 24-7. I thought it would be more like Vacation Bible School with arts and crafts and games and snacks mixed in. But in reality it was a very long church revival. We sang Pass It On until I wanted to pass on. “It only takes a spark to get a fire going…” If you’ve ever been to church camp, you know the song well. In addition to singing and preaching, there was lots of praying and crying and handholding. We would have slammed shots of Reverend Jim Jones Grape Juice if they passed it around and told us it was the right thing to do. The spirit moved us.

Our only non-church activities were eating 3 square bad meals, swimming (boys and girls separately) and one day of hiking up to Needle’s Eye and Devil’s Bathtub. Even on our hikes they had to work the devil in somehow…

At the end of the week, I was sooooo ready to go home to my real bed and my private shower and Momma’s cooking. The last morning after breakfast, we dilly-dallied around in our cabin, saying goodbye to all our new best friends. Finally, we decided to walk outside to check on our bus. That’s when we discovered we had been left behind. The Keiser Baptist Church bus left without us, and no one on that bus even missed us??? It appeared we were the only humans left. Church camp became eerily quiet. Did I hear dueling banjos in the distance? I couldn’t let myself become panicked – I was the oldest. But I bet this place was spooky at night, deep in the dark woods with all sorts unholy spirits.

Staci, Lesa and I formulated a brilliant plan in no time. We would phone home and explain to Momma and Aunt Lavern that the three of us had missed our bus. They would have no choice but to drive up to get us. And then, once they got to camp, they would realize we were already half way to the lake. We may as well go on to the lake. Right? Made complete sense. We always prayed to go to the lake, and it was the perfect place to recuperate from church camp.

the lake!

Just at that moment some preacher from Blytheville saw us strolling back to our empty cabin. After a bit of questioning, he realized we had missed our bus home. He and his small group were the last ones to leave camp, and we were forced to ride back with them. NO! There was to be no happy accidental lake trip. No singing Kumbaya on the return bus ride home with giggly friends. Instead I was crammed in the back of the preacher’s brown station wagon with a load of dirty laundry and a strange boy who cracked his knuckles the entire way home. Staci and Lesa were in some other vehicle. It was a terrible ending to the week at church camp. And after all that praying and singing, I just couldn’t believe this was to be our fate. Next year I was going to cheerleader camp! There was spirit there too.

talya

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Little Church Campers in the Big Woods

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