A Week at Summer Camp

A week that began with a car breakdown on the drive to camp, which was just a hint of the car troubles to come. Problems with a fuel injector, a dead battery, a starter motor that went out and a blown-out tire were some of the challenges our vehicles faced throughout the week.

A week of living in this little "village":

A week that that included several bear sightings and the pillaging of the girls' tent--twice.

A week when aforesaid bear was not content with rummaging through our things--he had to take Kelly's entire backpack up the mountain behind our campsite, claw through it and examine all of the contents. After consuming several granola bars, he grabbed the sleeping bag, took it farther up the mountain and shredded it royally.

A week of nicknames (inside my head mostly but not entirely) that began with "Harrah", ended with "Rambo" (Mark's nickname for Kelly) and included: Moose, Spike, Rye, Pocahontas, Bee, Cap'n, Mountie and Bush.

A week with a few trips to the First Aid Hut as well as to the hospital in Pueblo. Dehydration, allergies, a swollen ankle, a serious fall, a skinned shin or two and an emergency appendectomy were some of our medical issues.

A week when the boys accomplished much: merit badges, advancement requirements, Totin' Chips, Fireman's Chips, 25 miles on a backpacking trip, the 50-miler award, several 20-miler awards, a climb to the summit of one of the Spanish Peaks for two of our guys and a "beginner's hike" that lasted 6 hours, covered 7.6 miles and ascended to an altitude of almost 8900 feet.

A week when good character shone:  big guys helping little guys, boy scouts respecting authority, no complaining about the peas that showed up at dinner three days in a row (cleverly hidden in raman noodles, tuna casserole and vegetable stew), diligence and perseverance as they hiked and climbed and attended classes daily.

A week of stories and legends--around the opening campfire, around the fire in our campsite and on the "Legends" hike.

A week that included some scary moments: the bear incidents, of course but also the startling appearance of a fawn who bolted of the woods, practically knockng us over before he dashed into the woods on the other side of the road, scary "animal" sounds at night (some of which were later determined to be of human origin), rodents nibbling on things under the tent platform and one who actually popped up his head between the floorboards. And not to forget the very scary time when one of our guys went home after dark to the wrong campsite.

A week when food was mostly a positive topic of conversation and a highly anticipated event. Bonds of friendship were forged over slices of bacon. And we all knew who we could count on to be at the front of the line for dinner and who would be first in line for seconds.

A week when we watched for the legendary Indian Chef Grandote's shadow on the mountain. (Feathered headdress is to the left and his profile is to the right)

A week with an abundance of wildlife: pronghorn antelope, mule deer, hummingbirds, chipmunks rabbits and bears. And an abundance of Colorado wildfowers:  bluebells, columbine, queen anne's lace, daisies, clover and Russian thistles.

A week at camp where every day ended with cups of coffee (or cocoa) and our last day ended with a beautiful rendition of "Taps."


A week that will be forever in our hearts and memories.

Peter--Brash and Bold

He was there when Jesus was arrested, in very real danger of being taken into custody, too. Those were frightening, terrifying moments for him and for his friends.

But when Jesus told the soldiers "I am the One you are seeking, let these men go their way," it appears that most of the disciples then quietly stepped back. But not Peter.

Brash and bold, he drew his sword to defend Jesus. Knowing he was no match for the soldiers of the high priest, Peter chose the high priest's servant as the object of his wrath and struck off his ear.

The events of the next few moments are truly amazing. Jesus healed the servant. And apparently the soldiers didn't even notice. How could they not have seen? A display of the power of the Son of God before their very eyes and they did not see it. What were they doing--where was their attention as Jesus tenderly touched the ear, restoring it to full function? Capturing Jesus was their assignment--surely their eyes would be full on Him. Yet Jesus performed His last miracle before their very eyes and they were oblivious.

Then the soldiers seized Jesus and led him away. Most of the disciples then fled, fearing for their lives. Peter followed at a distance--still brash and impetuous--maybe not as bold.

In the hours that followed, three times he was recognized as having been with Jesus and three times he denied it. Upon the third denial and the crowing of the rooster, the enormity and reality of his denial of Jesus pierced his heart

and he wept aloud...no longer brash and bold

but broken and burdened with sin.

The Neighborly Bully

Narrator: Ladies and gentlemen, today we present for your entertainment and enlightenment, one of the parables of Jesus which we have entitled The Neighborly Bully. Well, it was a parable when we started out but I am not sure what it is now. You will meet a prospector, a villian, a cowboy, a deputy sheriff, a bully, some curious bystanders--that would be you guys--and me, the illustrious and ever important narrator. Since this is a melodrama, we will need audience participation...and probably a little practice...

(sign holder holds up signs)
BOO!
HOORAY!
HUH??

Narrator: I think you’ve got it!
A certain man…

Prospector: Me!

Narrator: Was traveling from Dry Gulch to Cactus Corner when he was waylaid by a bandit…

Bandit: Me! (bandit knocks man over, pretends to hit him)

Sign-holder: -BOO!-

Narrator: The bandit took his wallet with all his credit cards and the bag of gold nuggets and left him for dead…

Bandit: He’s dead. (takes wallet and bag of gold nuggets and walks off, looking back a couple of times.)

Prospector: I don’t think I’m dead but whatevs. (lifts head to say line then lays it back down) Oooh, ouch. (lifts head) No, I am pretty sure I am not dead. But I think I’m going to faint. (faints)

Narrator: So the man lay there moaning and groaning until a sheriff’s deputy passed by.

Deputy: I am the Deputy Sheriff in these here parts and I’m on official deputeeee business...

Signholder: -HOORAY!-

Deputy: ...Protecting women and children...

Signholder: -HOORAY!-

Deputy: ...tracking down train robbers...

Signholder: -HOORAY!-

Deputy: ...rounding up cattle rustlers

Signholder: -HOORAY!-

Deputy: ...and scooping up the mess horses leave behind.

Signholder: -HUH?-

Deputy: Hey, somebody’s got to do it.

(deputy turns to look across the stage, notices man)

Prospector: Help me, I’ve been waylaid…robbed…beaten…left for dead…

Deputy: (as an aside) Sad day for you!

Signholder: -HUH?-

(deputy walks across stage, going way around the man)

Deputy: I have much more important business today! (said right before he walks offstage)

Signholder: -BOO!-

Narrator: The next person to pass by was a cowboy, a regular John Wayne kind of guy, the guy who reunites little calves with their mommies...

Signholder: -HOORAY!-

Narrator: ...who brushes his horse every day...

Signholder: -HOORAY!-

Narrator: ...who never fails to put a nickel in the offering plate at church...

Signholder: -HOORAY!-

Narrator: ...and who spits on the sidewalk.

Signholder: -HUH?-

Cowboy: Let’s see…where's that to do list? (pulls out a long list and reads it)
Brand 5 new calves--check.
Fix barb wire fence--check.
Replace left front horseshoe on Ole Paint--check
Pick up some---

(looks up and notices man laying on ground who is quietly moaning…he continues across the stage, walks WAY around him)

Cowboy: I can’t forget to pick up some beans for the cook…I don’t have time today to chitchat with somebody dumb enough to get beaten and robbed.

Signholder: -BOO!- (cowboy leaves)

(bully comes upon the scene, carrying a water bottle)

Narrator: And it so happened that the town bully was the next to pass by. A guy who steps on kitties’ tails...

Signholder: -BOO!-

Narrator: ...takes candy from babies...

Signholder: -BOO!-

Narrator: ...trips little old ladies trying to cross the street...

Signholder: -BOO!-

Narrator: ...and burps at Sunday dinner.

Signholder: -HUH?-

Bully: (walks right over to the man) What happened to you? Been fighting or something?

Prospector: (moaning) yeah, something. More like being mugged…

Bully: Looks like you got the worst of it. Man, that’s gotta hurt!

Prospector: Yeah, my thumb is bleeding pretty badly. (holds up thumb) Plus I think my leg is broken.

Bully: Here. Let me help you.

Signholder: -HOORAY!-

(Bully hands him the water bottle) Do you want a Spider Man bandaid or a Hello Kitty bandaid? (puts the bandaid on his thumb)

Prospector: (looks at his thumb) Oh, that’s cute! (then starts groaning again)

Bully: Let’s get you to my granny’s house. She’ll nurse you back to health.

Signholder: -HOORAY!-

Bully: I’ll give her some money for to buy some more Hello Kitty bandaids and some Campbell’s chicken noodle soup...

Signholder: -HOORAY!-

Bully: ...and here, have a candy bar I took from a baby.

Signholder: -HUH?-

(Bully helps the man stand, puts his arm around him and the two go off stage, the prospector limping all the way)

Narrator: Which of these three men proved to be a good neighbor?
The sheriff’s deputy?

Signholder: -BOO!-

Narrator: The cowboy?

Signholder: -BOO!-

Narrator: The town bully?

Signholder: -HOORAY!-

Narrator: Even though the bully was in a rush, probably on his way to pop somebody‘s birthday balloons...

Signholder: -HUH?-

Narrator: ...he was the only one to stop and help. When Jesus finished telling this story, he said “Go and do likewise.” No, He didn’t mean for you to take candy from children or to step on kitties’ tails, He meant for you to love your neighbor as much as you love yourself and to be the one to give him a Hello Kitty bandaid and a bottle of cold water.

Quite a Little Adventure

Cheerfully we trooped out to the van on errand day, little knowing what lay ahead of us...or what any of us were going to have to say about it.


There are two stop lights within a block of each other and wouldn't you know it--the light in the furthest intersection turned red and the traffic was backed up so much that we ended up stuck in the middle of the second intersection but too far into it to be able to turn right.

 "Well, this is awkward," remarked the little man.


Sometimes as we travel along our merry way we have deep discussions about topics of significance and relevance. This was not one of those times. We were discussing some of the different euphemisms for "restroom."

me: When the British are talking about the restroom they say 'the W. C.'
little man: When the Indians are talking about it, they say 'behind the tree.'


Usually it takes the little man quite awhile to make up his mind what he wants to order when we stop for fast food. So I make certain to give him plenty of time to think it over.

me: Were you considering ordering a chicken snack wrap?
little man: Last time I checked my brain, I wasn't.


Sister was graciously getting our drinks and asked me if I wanted Dr. Pepper or Coke. I replied, "D.P." Her shocked face upon my reply revealed to me that she hadn't heard my complete answer.

Her comment: "Mom, we don't say that word in public!" was a perfect echo of my words in times past.


During our meal we asked little man to get us a refill of our drinks.  We appreciated his willingness to serve us but I cannot find the words to describe the feeling when one takes a swig of pop only to find out it is not what was expected. Lesson learned: do not send the little man to get refills as he will return with mixed drinks.


After our meal, I was appalled to discover that my keys were not in my purse...or in my jeans pocket...nor were they in anyone else's purse or jeans pocket.

me: I think I locked my keys in the van
sister: You know that's illegal, don't you?
me: I don't think it's illegal, I think it's stupid

Illegal or not, when we looked through the van window we could see the keys swinging merrily in the ignition so we enjoyed an ice cream cone while waiting for big sister to come rescue us.  Soon we were once again on our way but not before little man observed brightly,"Well, that was quite a little adventure, wasn't it?"

Child of the Covenant

Child of the covenant,
Known before time;
Loved in the darkness
No merit of mine.

Child of the Covenant,
By faith I believe--
His offering of blood
My redemption achieved.

Child of the Covenant,
And child of the King,
Only by grace
Am I under His wing.

by Karen Nilson
(all rights reserved)

t.y.o.b.

Scene: Skateboard park in South OKC

Cast: Inumerable crazy young men
one slightly nervous mom
one aspiring skateboard star known as t.y.o.b. (ten year old boy)

Props: skateboard and helmet

t.y.o.b.: Thanks for taking me skateboarding, Mom! (as we pull into the park)
mom: be careful, ok?
t.y.o.b.: ok

t.y.o.b. tries one slopes and jumps off the skateboard before he gets to the bottom, then tries it again with same result. He then spends some time watching the other guys, adjusts and readjusts his helmet, finds another slope, gets in line, adjusts his helmet, gets on skateboard, falls, scrapes his elbow a little, gets on again, jumps off again, adjusts his helmet, leaves the skateboarding area and decides to try his skateboard on the sidewalk that has a little slope to it. I sit on the bench in the sunshine watching all the crazy people then notice the t.y.o.b. as he comes limping back without his skateboard.

mom: where's your skateboard?
t.y.o.b.: I'm bleeding, Mom.

Evidently a bleeding person cannot carry a skateboard and this particular bleeding person needs some ice on his wounds

So we pack it up for McDonald's. He licks his wounds (figuratively) as I order a Wildberry Smoothie and a coke with a side of ice. The ice soothes the sting a little but he is finished with skateboarding for the day so we hop into the van.

t.y.o.b.: Mom, where are we going?
mom: home
t.y.o.b.: oh, I thought we were going to the hospital.

I am sure there are no broken bones and I am certain our first aid kit will be sufficient for his needs so we continue to head towards home.

t.y.o.b.: I didn't cry, Mom.
mom: I know...it really hurt, didn't it?
t.y.o.b.: yeah, but I didn't cry.
(long pause)
t.y.o.b.: thanks for taking me skateboarding, Mom.

Four Years ago

Four years ago I was the mother of an enthusiastic Tiger Cub Scout.
Four years ago Monday nights were the highlight of his week.
Four years ago I volunteered to help our cub scout leader so we could continue meeting.
Four years ago the helper became the leader.
Four years ago I thought I would just finish out the school year until they could find someone else.
Four years ago it was a duty, an obligation so my son could go to the meetings he enjoyed so much.

Today it is a joy.

And I am still the mother of an enthusiastic Cub Scout.

Just a little nostalgic right now. Last night was the Arrow of Light ceremony for the oldest Cub in our den. Before the ceremony we worked on our last project together as The Three Musketeers. If I think about it very much, I just might cry.


When I took on the challenge of leading little boys, I didn't think I would like it. I am more into arts and crafts than sports, more into sewing than leatherwork, more into reading than chemistry, more into Mozart than "Shark Attack."

I thought I enjoyed girl talk more than jokes about body chemistry. I thought girlish giggles topped fist pumps. I thought little girl hugs were sweeter than high fives.

But I was wrong.

In the last few years, I have learned to appreciate sports (a little bit, anyway), to let boys run and wrestle (preferably outdoors), and to laugh at their jokes (or at least smile).

I have learned not to get *too* mushy with them, although there are times when I just want to squeeze their little cheeks or grab them and give them a big hug. I have learned not to talk "at" them too much but to ask them questions and let them talk. I have learned that a snack at the end of the evening is pretty much a requirement.

I still roll my eyes at their corny jokes. I still flinch when they do a face plant on the floor. I still wonder how in the world they can eat that much. In short, I am still amazed at how different they are from little girls.

My little boys are turning into little men. Sometimes even little gentlemen. (I really like this part!) And they need to be with older guys. They need to see older Boy Scouts leading and learning. And they need to learn to lead.

And so, too soon, I will watch as the rest of "my" boys step into the ceremonial teepee, trade their blue uniform shirts for khaki uniform shirts and cross over into Boy Scouts.