(Originally posted on Facebook August 10, 2014)
Happy Sunday Friends!
This week, Mike and I were able to go up to our ward's overnighter at Camp
Woodland. For those who don't know, it's a private, church-owned camp up in the
mountains between Morgan and East Canyon. Though we didn't stay the night, we
went up for dinner, entertainment, music and enjoyment, and snuck out just
before the gate closed and locked for the night.
As we were driving down the hill into the camp, I felt a wave of nostalgia wash over me. I love this place. It holds so many memories of good times, friends, family, and testimony building experiences. Hundreds of times I've come down that road, from my earliest memories to just this week. It doesn't look the same as it did when I was young.... New bathrooms, new lodge, bigger trees, new fences.... even the river has changed course slightly... but the FEEL of the camp is the same. It's a feeling of warmth, comfort, and safety. So many hours I spent tubing that river, exploring the trails behind the lodge, finding water snakes to scare mom with (Not her favorite memory.... and now I hate snakes! What was I thinking?) playing endless hours of soccer, volleyball, baseball, and frisbee on that big grassy field during the day, and laying there looking at the bright stars (without any city lights to dim them) at night. My family would sometimes camp the entire week up there. My dad would get up and go to work from there, and mom would stay with us kids through the day. Sometimes there were a few other campers there, and sometimes we were the only ones. Then on Friday night, hoards of people would come up for family camping and ward overnighters, and we'd excitedly wait for friends to arrive. We would always leave there covered with dirt, smelling like campfire, and sporting new cuts and bruises, but filled with happy hearts.
The point I am trying to make on this trip down memory lane is this..... We didn't have a lot of money growing up. We never went without, and my parents saved up to let us play sports, take dance, etc, but there wasn't extra money for frivolous things. We didn't have the biggest house, the newest cars, or the nicest clothes. But my parents made sure to give us the things that made us TRULY rich. We have wonderful memories, parents that loved us and each other, that taught us about sticking together through trials and making the most of it. They took time to teach us to treat others kindly, respect nature, to leave a campsite cleaner than you found it, to stop and look at the clouds, the stars, the sunsets. Those things have shaped my life and made me the person I am today. Today I am rich. Not with money, but with those things that money can't buy. I'm grateful for goodly parents. For Family and Friends. For nature. For memories.
Have a wonderful day! Remember... you don't have to have money to be rich. :)
As we were driving down the hill into the camp, I felt a wave of nostalgia wash over me. I love this place. It holds so many memories of good times, friends, family, and testimony building experiences. Hundreds of times I've come down that road, from my earliest memories to just this week. It doesn't look the same as it did when I was young.... New bathrooms, new lodge, bigger trees, new fences.... even the river has changed course slightly... but the FEEL of the camp is the same. It's a feeling of warmth, comfort, and safety. So many hours I spent tubing that river, exploring the trails behind the lodge, finding water snakes to scare mom with (Not her favorite memory.... and now I hate snakes! What was I thinking?) playing endless hours of soccer, volleyball, baseball, and frisbee on that big grassy field during the day, and laying there looking at the bright stars (without any city lights to dim them) at night. My family would sometimes camp the entire week up there. My dad would get up and go to work from there, and mom would stay with us kids through the day. Sometimes there were a few other campers there, and sometimes we were the only ones. Then on Friday night, hoards of people would come up for family camping and ward overnighters, and we'd excitedly wait for friends to arrive. We would always leave there covered with dirt, smelling like campfire, and sporting new cuts and bruises, but filled with happy hearts.
The point I am trying to make on this trip down memory lane is this..... We didn't have a lot of money growing up. We never went without, and my parents saved up to let us play sports, take dance, etc, but there wasn't extra money for frivolous things. We didn't have the biggest house, the newest cars, or the nicest clothes. But my parents made sure to give us the things that made us TRULY rich. We have wonderful memories, parents that loved us and each other, that taught us about sticking together through trials and making the most of it. They took time to teach us to treat others kindly, respect nature, to leave a campsite cleaner than you found it, to stop and look at the clouds, the stars, the sunsets. Those things have shaped my life and made me the person I am today. Today I am rich. Not with money, but with those things that money can't buy. I'm grateful for goodly parents. For Family and Friends. For nature. For memories.
Have a wonderful day! Remember... you don't have to have money to be rich. :)
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