“Thanks Kid”
Words from Joyce Sasse's Gleanings from a Prairie Pastor, (pub. 2021) as she reflects on Rural networks. UCRMN has arisen from the networks here described, as well as the Alex Sim Symposium (1996 to 2016 in Ontario).
(This EBook can be downloaded at the CIRCLe M website www.circle-m.ca)
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(Thoughts from Joyce about Summer Church Camps. Found in “Country Preacher’s Notebook - Wood Lake Books, 1990)
Intro: As a Camp Director, I tried to ensure that everyone who came to camp had a rewarding time. On one occasion, while attempting to help one difficult child fit in, I received my own reward from him, in a somewhat disguised fashion.
“Thanks Kid”
Marvin quickly earned the label ‘The Camp Brat’. When turmoil erupted in the camp, nine-year-old Marvin was at the heart of the trouble. When things were too quiet, we looked for ‘The Brat’. We wiggled his way through meals, splashed soap suds on others at the kitchen sink, raised a commotion long after lights-out, and absolutely rebelled when it came time to take a swim in the lake.
The leaders grew hostile about anything to do with Marvin. They through he was either terribly spoiled or in need of a lesson. I wondered if his big front covered up the fact he was scared to death of the water (swimming and canoeing were big events even at our Junior Camp).
On the last day of Camp I watched Marvin and Jarrod (the quiet little buddy he had met this week) get ready to paddle a canoe out to the edge of our swimming area. They spent an hour finding the right life vest, choosing the right paddle… all the time talking themselves into the venture. It was a rather laid-back time for everyone else. No one seemed to pay much attention until they got in the canoe and tried to make their way to the outer edge of the swimming area. Then my best leader chose, for reasons unknown, to swamp their boat. I expect he wanted to give them a taste of what it would really be like, while they were still in water that was only chest deep.
Marvin flew into an instant rage, and his timid little buddy fled the scene to team up with less volatile friends. The time had come for me to move in as Camp Director, for I didn’t want the youngster to leave with such a negative experience foremost in his memory.
Once he had a few minutes to vent his rage (what a vocabulary!), I quietly went up to him to explain my plight.
“Marvin”, I said, “I need your help”. His glare was enough to discourage the most hardened of souls. “Marvin, I noticed when you and Jarrod got in that canoe, you sat in the back end as through you knew how to steer. All week long I’ve been trying to build up my courage and find someone to take me out on the water. But I hate to admit to anyone I’m scared. I really don’t know what to do.” I could see I had his attention. “I’d like to go out for a ride like the others. Do you think you could help? Could you steer the canoe for me and show me what to do?”
To imagine the rest, you have to realize my size – I am more than ‘well-endowed’. With me sitting low down in the front of the canoe, and little Marvin high up in the back, we made quite a picture. Thank goodness, by this time the rest of the campers were getting ready for lunch.
He had to really reach down for his ‘steering oar’ to touch the water. I held the side of the boat with a true sense of insecurity as it rocked back and forth. However, bless his heart, he got our boat out beyond the edge of the swimming area and around an extended bit of the shore line.
I thanked him profusely, told him about how much better I felt having got out on the water before I went home, then suggested we’d best head back for lunch. By then it seemed permissible for me to give a few hefty strokes with my paddle, too, to get us home.
We beached the boat quickly, and I sent him running to the dining room to catch up with the others.
Ten minutes later, I got myself settled at the table and started to reach for what was left on the platter. Then I heard a little, raspy voice from the next table say to no one in particular, “I think fat people are marvelous!”
It was the best back-handed compliment any Camp Director could ever receive.
Shared by Rev. Catherine Christie
