We were gathered on the patio across the bridge from the parking lot. Anytime now the campers would be crossing that bridge and left in our care. We had a mixed bag of backgrounds. We were not professionals at this. But there we stood in our matching lime green camp t-shirts. Each of us wondering what we had gotten ourselves into. It was too late to turn back now; the campers would be here any minute.

A group of counselors had met on Saturday morning to car pool to camp. Virginia and Pete would be the camp "directors" and the rest of us would be counselors. The goal was to provide a one on one camper/counselor ratio. Extremely calm or cooperative campers might be two to one. The first year "our camp" consisted of a Doctor, a Nurse (who happened to be the Doctor’s wife), their two little boys, Virginia, Pete, 8 counselors and 10 campers. I was assigned Matt S., our new scout.

The camp, donated by a wealthy member of the Methodist Church, is nestled in the hills of central Pennsylvania. It is a long way from nowhere. It is a beautiful setting. The camp has a lake and many streams and creeks. The creeks are perfect for "stream stomping" or just splashing around. There are many path’s going through the woods surrounding the camp. If you were patient you would most surely see wildlife including deer, rabbit, and an occasional beaver.

We were staying at Penn’s Creek Lodge, the log buildings that were part of the original property. The Penn’s Creek Lodge consists of one main two-story lodge with 5 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms and one large living room. Attached to the main lodge is an annex with 2 more bedrooms. There are also three smaller cabins, the largest of which, Lick Run, the Doctor and his family stayed in. The rest of our camp stayed in the main lodge and annex.

There is also a group of cabins around the lake. This allows two camps to occur at the same time. We would split lake and craft time and share the dining hall at meal times. This year a fourth and fifth grade camp was in the lakeside cabins.

Saying I was nervous was a gross understatement. I did not know if I was really up to this. It was one thing showing up on Tuesday nights and helping out for an hour, this was a totally different ball game. When the campers were dropped off today the parents weren’t coming back in an hour. For the rest of the week, day and night, they were our responsibility.

One of the first campers to arrive was Bobby. Bobby was an 8-year-old dynamo. He was deaf, and had limited use of his legs, but don’t tell him he had any handicaps. Despite his hearing loss he had no trouble communicating. He rolled into the room with a big smile on his face that said "I’m here, gotta love me" and in two minutes we did. Bobby did things his way and for himself. If you're in his way, watch out! But he’d run you over with a smile on his face.

It was past the registration time and Matt S. still wasn’t here. In all honesty, Matt S. not showing up seemed like an easy end to my worries. I found myself hoping that they changed their mind.

He did arrive, a little late. After I gave him and his parents a brief tour, his parents left. I timidly followed Matt S. around as he explored his new surroundings. Things were going smooth, but I was still waiting for the outbreak. Matt S. happily rolled through the evening. He enjoyed supper and the singing that followed.

That evening, right after we read the Poky Little Puppy, Matt S. went right to sleep. I went down stairs happy about the easy, even fun, time I had today. I was still on edge though, waiting for the calm to fall apart.

I went back up in a couple minutes to check on Matt S. I quietly tiptoed to our room and peeked in the door. He wasn’t in his bed! I rushed into the room and looked under the beds. He wasn’t there! I ran into the hallway and checked all the other rooms and the bathrooms. I went down the steps in a panic and scanned the down stairs. No Matt S.! By this time my heart was pounding a million beats a minute. All I could think was "I’m not telling Caryn." I ran back up the steps and into our room to make sure he wasn’t in his bed. He wasn’t! I turned around in a panic and saw that my sleeping bag looked a little lumpy. I pulled back the cover. There was Matt S., sound asleep. We switched beds for the rest of camp.

The more I was around Matt the more I discovered about him. There was obviously allot more inside Matt that was struggling to get out. It was truly amazing that despite this communications barrier he managed to maintain a pleasant and cooperative attitude. He really responded when he knew you recognized the boy trapped by the communications fog. It’s really hard to explain Matt. He understood what you said but had trouble communicating back. He could take in and process the input but it was a struggle for him to provide any feedback. A simple grunt or arm motion was usually the most response I would get.

Glenn was 15 years old and would jump from periods of high energy to bouts where he wouldn’t move or do anything. He had a heart condition that caused him to tire easily and when he tired he became extremely grouchy. When he was "up" he was extremely pleasant and cooperative but when he was "down" he wouldn’t cooperate with even the simplest tasks. His most common reaction was to whine "Leave Me Alone", and we usually did.

Our camp is a church camp and this year our theme was the creation. We tried to think of a way to communicate the message of the creation in an upbeat fun way. Mr. Skunk was our answer. Every morning after breakfast we would meet on the lodge’s porch and spend some time with Mr. Skunk. We had made a hollow tree out of chicken wire and paper mache. Virginia worked the puppet. Every morning, after breakfast, the campers would "wake-up" Mr. Skunk, and he would appear out of his tree stump. Pete would read a lesson and Mr. Skunk would add comments and prompt for participation. It worked wonderfully. Everyone really enjoyed it.

David came along to camp, and we thought we were comfortable enough with him to assign him to Stacy, one of our college-age counselors. Although David did listen pretty well, we could all picture the scene when Stacy described trying to push a reluctant David into the shower. David’s impatience and stubbornness also became evident during a cookout. We were cooking hot dogs over the fire, and David cooked his for about 4 seconds, grabbed it off the stick and tried to eat it.

Stacy was not really the out-doors type. When we were going on a hike, somehow she got out in the lead. We heard a scream! We hurried up to her to see what the problem was, expecting the worse. We discovered a very frightened fawn scared her. Stacy now moved to the middle of the pack. We walked a little further and she started screaming again "A baby bat, A baby bat!" We heroically saved her from a moth.

Pete was also a member of the anti-nature club. He wouldn’t walk anywhere without his walking stick. He would use it to move the grass and bushes in front of him looking for snakes. Luckily he never found any, or I’m sure we all would have heard the scream.

Sandy E. was a veteran of many Cub Scout and Boy Scout excursions. Her campers were two young ladies, Jenny and Lesha. Jenny was 15 and much taller than Sandy E. When she was excited, she stammered. At night she would lie in bed and yell "M-m-m-m-y B-b-b-b-b-ed" at the top of her lungs. Lesha was 11 going on 25. She was a cute girl with downs syndrome. Being the only male counselor I became the object of their attention. Every time I glanced their way they would yell "Oh my God, he’s looking at us" and hide their heads. Lesha told everyone, except me, that I was her boyfriend.

As the week progressed, Matt S. and I got to know each other. We went from cautious strangers to good friends. Many times Matt S. would become excited and put his arm around my head and pull it in towards him. During song time this was a common occurrence. We would also sing our way to the dining hall, the peppier the tune the faster Matt S. would walk. As Sunday turned into Monday, then rolled into Tuesday I finally started to calm down and enjoy the ride.

One part of Matt’s routine remained consistent. Every night, and multiple times during the day, Matt S. wanted me to read the Poky Little Puppy. If I attempted to read another book he would reach over and take it from me. I must have read the book 50 times.

Another part of the day that we all looked forward to was lake time. We would load up in rowboats and paddleboats, move out to the middle of the lake and let the action start. We would take the buckets, stored on the boats to bail water, and throw water on each other. It was a great time. Afterward everyone was tired, wet, and laughing.

On Wednesday night, our last night together at camp, we unknowingly started a tradition. After 4 days of constant activity and broken sleep we all assembled around the campfire. Even the most active camper was tired. Pat, the site manager, brought his banjo down and we had a sing along. By this time the campers and counselors had time to bound. We were one big pile of tired, happy campers. If you would scan the circle of people you would see campers sitting on counselors laps or with there heads resting on their shoulders. The apprehensions from Sunday were gone. The transformation from strangers to family had occurred.

We couldn’t believe it when Thursday rolled around. None of us was ready to go. As it crept toward departure time, I once again found myself wishing Matt S.’s parents would be late. His parents did come, anxious for news. I tried to explain the fun time I had. I tried to convince them that Matt S. not only had a good time but had a great time, and so did I. As I was thinking about Matt S. leaving, tears filled my eyes. After sharing so much it is very hard to say good-bye.

Later, as I got to know Caryn better, she told me how much my reaction meant to her. She was used to Matt S. being rejected or at most "put up with". It meant allot to her that we wanted Matt S. there and enjoyed his company. It still brings tears to both our eyes reminiscing about this day.

The counselors all said their tearful good-byes and gathered in the lodge. We all just shared an experience that turned out to be much more than we ever imagined. We went 5 days with hardly any sleep and virtually no time to sit and rest, and we never felt so good. We had grown from total strangers to a tight family group. Camp years would come and go but the family of Wesley Forest 1989 will always be special to each other.

After the campers left we all felt empty. A piece of us was missing. We would stay until tomorrow and clean up. We were to tired to sleep so some of us drove into the local town and got some pizza and soda. After we returned we gathered in the main lodge and reminisced about our week. We laughed, cried and hugged. Finally late into the evening we drug ourselves up to bed.

Just as I fell asleep, I heard a scream coming from Stacy and Karen’s room. I wandered out into the hallway, ready to chase the moth out of their room. They both ran out of their room, faces white as sheets. Karen, the braver of the two, stammered "There’s a giant bug in there with wings and teeth coming out the front of its mouth, and it attacked me." I bravely entered the room expecting to find a tiny bug. What I discovered sitting on her pillow was the ugliest bug I ever saw. It was about 5 inches long and had 1/2 inch long pincher coming out of its mouth. We later discovered that this bug was a hellgrammite and common to the area. I went and got a shoebox, covered the bug, and let him loose outside.

The next morning we mopped and cleaned the cabins, loaded our stuff in our cars and assembled in the parking lot. No one wanted to be the first one to leave, so we sort of milled around the parking lot. We thought we could extend the feelings, even if just for a little bit longer. I don’t remember who left first but we all followed. The camp left when the campers left, all that was left was empty buildings. Good-bye for now Wesley Forest, we’ll be back.