In the Swallow's mid-teen years, she was given the opportunity to go camping with a few of her Sunday School teachers and friends. It was her first and most memorable campfire through the years.
It was a great delight when her parents finally gave their approval for her to go for the camping as it would be held over several days on the beach. Thoughts of staying up late into the night under a moonlit sky with twinkling stars glowing up above, whispering stories, ghostly or otherwise, with her friends, roasting chestnuts on an open fire (okay, okay, there were no chestnuts, just an open fire)...it was a dream come true!
When she was finally on the beach, reality struck. True, there was the open fire and the moonlit sky with its starry hosts but there was also the strong afternoon sun beating down upon her back, giving no relief unless she was under the trees. There were times when she had sat around the campfire and shared laughter and stories with her friends, but there were also times when she had to huddle in the tent when heavy rains fell. Yes, the Swallow did complain about the hot sun. Yes, she did mutter about the heavy rains when she was sitting in the stuffy tent with nothing else to do except listen to the rain pitter-patter-ing against the external walls of the tent.
However, when she looks back on her memories, it is with a smile on her face. For she remembers valiantly offering to stay up late for guard duty only to find herself falling asleep instead. She remembers seeing the astonishment on her friends' faces (and hers - so her friends said) when they realised that there was also sand in their food, with compliments from the wind and the beach. She remembers the horror they initially felt when they had to scrub the pots they had used with the sand from the beach. She remembers the campfire stories and the secrets they had whispered to each other with the promise of silence. She remembers the games they had played on the beach and in the sea.
If she is able to turn back the clock and is given the chance to make a fresh decision with the knowledge she now has, the Swallow will choose to go through the campfire experience again (although with thankfulness instead of complaints) because life is made up of dreams and the living of such dreams. Life is when dreams and reality collide, and the adventure begins.
2 comments:
hey, I remember that camp! and yes, I was there too but I think you've forgotten that part. :P
it was also the most memorable camp for me and I wish the youth these days could enjoy what we had when we were young...
Hmmm...now that you mentioned it, there is in the Swallow's memories a picture of you scrubbing the pot with the sand...LOL!
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