Receiving a FruitGift Basket Is A Band Camp Necessity
I have an aunt who is one of the most thoughtful, giving persons I know. She sent a package to me that truly helped me through a very trying time in my life. I was at Band Camp late in the summer. Her own daughter had attended this same one a few years earlier. Band Camp is a week of rigorous instruction in which performances for football half-time shows, as well as week-end competitions are learned. It is an extremely strenuous activity, as choreography, music memorization, and fine-tuning skills are perfected. The location of Band Camp is at a rather isolated, rural setting. Comfort is non-existent. The cabins in which we stayed are old, dilapidated structures which house spider-ridden, musty-smelling cots. They are arranged side-by-side and in bunks, accommodating as many campers as possible. Talk about living in “close quarters”. There is no other furniture in the cabin. Even though these living and sleeping arrangements seemed undesirable and lacked privacy, we were so exhausted after our daily routines, we quickly adapted. Meals were shared in a cafeteria setting; campers sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on hard benches. The food consisted of bland-tasting, fattening choices. Nothing was fresh; everything tasted like it came from a can…and it probably did. Because we were so active, by the time meals were served, we were so hungry that we really didn’t care what we ate, as long as it was filling. The week I attended Band Camp, the weather was hot, humid, and uncomfortable. Practices were brutal and the pressure of living in this kind of environment, as well as the mental and physical demands, made me miss home. One day, about mid-week, I was in a particularly foul mood. The rigorous activity and the cramped living conditions were bothering me. I was hot and tired. My allergies were making me even more uncomfortable, depriving me of much-needed sleep. My muscles were sore and I was probably on the verge of dehydration. During a short rest break, my fellow campers and I heard the roar of a delivery truck coming down the lane, kicking up a trail of dust. “Wonderful. Probably another delivery of slop for dinner”, I said sarcastically. Imagine my surprise (and delight) when the Band Director called out my name with his megaphone to inform me that the delivery was actually for me. I hurriedly tore the heavy box open, while fellow campers stood around and watched. Inside the wrapping, I found a hand-written note from my thoughtful aunt and read it aloud to the growing crowd. “I know you and your band-mates need to keep up your energy. Band Camp is a time for learning and sharing; a time for loving and caring; a time to make lasting memories. Enjoy!” Inside the huge box was a beautiful bushel basket brimming with a variety of delicious, fresh fruit. Sweet and juicy peaches, plums, and nectarines were abundant. There was an assortment of McIntosh and Granny Smith apples; Bartlett and Bosc pears; red and green seedless grapes. Colorful oranges and tangy tangerines were also attractively placed to make an enticing arrangement. Best of all, was a gigantic, ripe watermelon. Sealed packages of dried cherries, banana chips, and boxes of raisins were thrown in; to be enjoyed after the fresh assortment was gone. Because of my aunt’s thoughtfulness, I look back at my Band Camp experience with fondness. Sending me the Fruit Basket turned out to be the encouragement I needed to keep me going…to keep me focused…to see me through to the end. It was such a great idea; I will never forget how much I appreciated it. In fact, I plan to send a deliciously fresh Fruit Basket to other band campers in years to come. |
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