The Secret to Picking Sweet Friends

My boys spent the week at Camp Rapidan....We dropped them off at the church Monday morning and they happily boarded the bus. I was a little nervous about Ethan and Sam being away for five whole days. Could they survive without their mama? Could I survive without them? Once they got on the bus they would barely raise their hands to wave goodby much less make eye contact. And then, they were gone! My babies!

Wayne took the rest of the day off to nurse me through my detachment distress. We took the girls to a berry farm and picked blackberries. It was fun, hot work. Phoebe kept screaming to go back to the car, Annie got a thorn in her finger and Ruby didn't aprreciate the heat. Wayne and I tag-teamed enough berries to make a few pies before a total meltdown ensued. The effort was worth it. Nothing in this world tastes better than a blackberry pie!

Camp and berry picking got me thinking. I prayed everyday for my boys. I hope through this week that they obeyed and made good friends. Good friends are kind of like blackberries, you've got to be in the right place to pick them. I met the "sweetest" friend of my life on the way to Camp Pamadeva twenty years ago this summer.

I picked Jessica to be my new friend out of all the other campers present. I don't think she was to keen on picking me! She was clean and had a hairband that matched her shirt. She had her nails filed and painted! So perfect. So mature! I, on the other hand, was miss matched and loud mouthed. The very first thing I ever said to her was "Are you adopted?" The glare she gave me didn't thwart my determination to be her new best bud. Somehow, between the over-crowded swimming pool and a bug infested cabin, a life long frienship was born.

One of the greatest gifts on earth is friendship. My cup runneth over....