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.
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.
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.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.