Part Two: In Which A Near-Death-Experience Turns Into My Best Life Experience

If this pizza represents eternity, that
slice of Brighton right there should
be WAY smaller. But it still tastes
incredible. 

The reason I even began this project in the first place is because I just had the most incredible summer of my entire life--past, present and future life included--and I'm just kinda bummed that I never got around to telling you about it while it was happening. But it'll be fun to go back and view it all as a whole, just to see the big picture. When I began working at Brighton, I remember being upset that I had to write in my journal every single day because then I'd see each day as an individual and not part of a whole. But now I'll get the chance to view each week of my summer for exactly what it was--a minuscule, yet significant, slice of eternity.

When I was thirteen, I spent a week up at Brighton Beehive Camp, an LDS girls camp specifically for twelve and thirteen year old girls. I remember arriving Monday morning, sitting on "The Rock" watching a whole bunch of young women sing ridiculous songs and do ridiculous dances in ridiculous costumes and my very sophisticated self wanted nothing more than to turn around and go right back home.

Not to brag, but I don't look a day
over nine here.

This was out of character for me. I loved camping. I loved girls camp most of all. I'd never been homesick. To this day I couldn't tell you exactly what it was that turned me against that camp right away but my attitude was less than stellar.

Good news--my counselor (Belle) and my unit were incredible. That week I learned what the Spirit felt like. I learned I could gain my own testimony. I had more fun than I'd ever had in my entire life. Coming home on the bus Friday afternoon was the first time I remember ever crying and all I could think was that I knew I'd be back as a counselor one day. And what do you know, this summer I did exactly that.

Sometimes my excited face makes me
look like a terrorist. 

It'd be impossible to tell you everything in one post. The plan right now is to go at it one week at a time but don't count on it 'cause the plan could definitely change. So without further ado, here is the story of the first week of the happiest time of my life.

The first week sucked.

It was June, and it snowed for two days. The entire staff (there were no girls for the first week) spent two frigid days cooped inside the dining hall with minimal ventures into the great outdoors. Trekking Hernia Hill every night to get to my cabin was utterly miserable. I couldn't feel my toes for two days. I knew a total of two people, neither of which were counselors with me. We sang ridiculous songs. We did ridiculous dances. I wrote in my journal, "Probably this will turn into the best experience of my life, just like it did the last time I was here, but right now I just want to go home, just like the last time I was here."

Can you guess which one
is the 12-year-old?

I like to be by myself. Some times I'd go to the bathroom just so I could shut myself in a stall for five minutes and remember who exactly I was. I like to think I'm a decently outgoing person but being around the Brighton staff transformed me into a paragon of social awkwardness. To this day, any of the staff members you ask will tell you that that first week, "Queen Bee" was silent. I didn't say much and I felt awkward participating and volunteering. I'm sure everyone else was wondering what the heck I was doing there, and I knew that, which only served to make me even shyer.

Wednesday the sun remembered it was summer and a few weak rays peeked out from behind the clouds. Cha Cha and I peeled ourselves away from the space heater that had been our constant companion, we all stripped down to only three layers and decided to go on a "hike". Since all the actual trails were still snow-packed we walked down the road to Silver Lake. It would be the first of many such excursions, at least for me.

When I was little, my family would take picnics to eat at the picnic tables before walking the boardwalk and admiring the lake and the flowers. We ran around Silver at HARC last summer. I walked around it at least nine times this summer. As much as I pretended to be sick of it, the truth is that lake will always be special to me. It reminds me of the things that make me happiest--my family, running, and Brighton. And that day, I made a friend.

Queen Bee and Baby Bee forever. 

My friend Mary Beth (known as Aqua for the summer) and I chatted with Winnie, the camp director, and another counselor named Pixar as we walked. For the first time all week, I didn't feel lonely or
out of place and as the summer progressed the two of us became super tight. Thank you, Silver Lake. (Our friendship is actually kind of a miracle considering how we met. Stay tuned for my next post. Dun dun dun!)

The rest of the week was somewhat less freezing. I learned some of the camp songs and we played camp games and tried to do a ropes course in the snow which was miserable. We learned about being aware of the people around us during games so we could stay safe and also being aware of people's spiritual and emotional and physical needs. We pretended to be Beehives and went on another "hike" through Brownieland. We rappelled--which I hated--and ziplined--which I loved. We held our Legend Ceremony where I learned about giving my whole soul to the things I believe in. We cooked tinfoil dinners in the kitchen and held our devotional in the dining hall. We traveled the Lifeline and I learned about the angels that are watching over us, but more importantly about the great interest Heavenly Father takes in our lives. And you know what's funny?

By the end of the week, I didn't hate Brighton. In fact, I started to think that it just might turn out to be the best experience of my life.

This is Camp Brighton, we welcome you here. We know you'll
be touched by the Spirit of God, and you'll leave with a
tear and a smile.