Camp French

Camp French is a delightful Boy Scout Camp behind Lopez Lake. There is a pine grove called the "Walk of the Eagles" where trees are planted and plaques are placed for Scouts who achieve Eagle. When I was a young girl, my entire family planted a tree for my grandfather who received his Eagle in 1929 in Michigan. And one each for my father and his two brothers who were in the first Boy Scout troop of Orange County during the '60's. We have all returned to plant one for my cousin, Tommy, in 2000 who is now a Navy diver in Bahrain. And then for my little brother, James, in 2002 who is now on a mission in Brazil. I love walking the trail, reading the names and dates on the plaques. Thinking about the boys who belong to those names. And sometimes I even find one or two that I know.

Scouting has been a large part of my life. It is a tradition in my family. I even received the Gold Award in Girl Scouts, along with my sister. Camp French is a tradition in itself. I spent a week there every summer at Girl's Camp, volunteered at Cub Day Camp, church camp-outs, ceremonies at the large fire pit, and family camp-outs.

We happened to be there in the fall for a Cub Scout Pack Meeting involving an Arrow of Light Ceremony and an overnight camp-out (Adam is the Cub Scout Chairman). We enjoyed sleeping in their freshly installed tents complete with wooden bunks for the scouts to sleep on. My parents joined us the next day, and we went on our traditional walk, to see the family trees. My father's is thick and healthy. And my grandpa's is towering over the others. But, my brothers tree had been cracked by the wind, and was struggling to stay alive.

My mother was heartbroken. You see, he left for Brazil just last August and we are all still getting used to not having him around. He is the baby of our family, and the first missionary of the Tringham Family (my parents are both converts to the church). He is very much loved. This is a sacrifice, to not see him for so long, and we miss him. So, to find his tree fallen was too much for my mom. She immediately went to work rectifying the situation. She and my dad went to our small town's nursery, purchased another Pine, and while my sister was here at Christmas, we all went and planted it for him. Adam and my dad dug up the old tree, and put the new tree in its place. And tied a couple poles on either side for support just in case a wind should happen by again. The water was turned off at Camp French when we were there. So, we watered it with a little rain water found in a trash can and hoped for the best.

That night, it poured.

I believe it was Heavenly Father's way of telling us that all would be okay. Giving us a confirmation of our faith.

Because it is an act of faith to send your son to a foreign country to teach the gospel, right?

We returned on Monday to give the little tree a fervent drink. It was grateful, I'm sure. We picnicked in the shade of the trees, Adam and my dad took the kids for a "hike" to see an Indian tepee at the camp, and ended the afternoon with swinging under the Sycamore's.

Jamie found treasures: a deer's antler and a turkey feather that were left behind. Treasures indeed.

Jamie in the leaves at Camp French

Adam, Jamie, Anna exploring the tee-pee

Jamie and Anna by uncle's "tree"

Camping in the fall

Grandma and Jamie in the fall

An act of faith followed by treasures. That is how it works.