At the end of every summer season there are traditions that must be observed. That shouldn’t be surprising, considering the level of sacrifice and energy invested into the camp ministry by the volunteer and semi-volunteer staff of Windsor Hills. This year, we heartily embraced those traditions once again.

On the last Friday night of the last camp, we packed the High School and College workers into vans and headed for Hillsboro House of Pizza. After eating everything we could, it came time for “the song”.

“The Song” is a ridiculous merger of the tune of “Thanks for the Memories” and lyrics based on the events of the summer just past. It goes on and on. Everybody is included. Highlights are mentioned, humorous, serious, spiritual, not-so-spiritual, outrageous – you get the picture. I sang “the Song” to these guys while standing in the middle of the dining room of the pizza place, with strangers wondering what on earth was going on.

(A Brief Excerpt) TFTM =(Thanks for the Memories) WTYSM= (We thank you so much!)

TFTM: A summer spent at camp Of looking like a tramp (please shave!) Of swimming with the lifeguards Who saved the guy with cramps WTYSM

TFTM Of Christie’s great devotions Of Ryan’s deep emotions Our chaplains were the greatest They ruled at locomotion. WTYSM

To Joline, Alyssa and Amber To Yanna amd Jessica, too, To Joshua, Troy and to Daniel, You worked four weeks, In cold and heat, so

TFTM Of Russell and the trash His secret paper stash Of cleaning lots of toilets It wasn’t for the cash WTYSM

TFTM Of Christopher Reilly’s smile, Of Katelyn’s winning style Of swimming in the rain storms And laughing all the while WTYSM

Somewhere in the process, and lingering long after the final notes of the goofy ballad had faded away, God breathed into my heart an incredible sense of thanksgiving for the folks to whom I was singing.

I’d always been grateful for them, but somehow I saw in a new way their incredible partnership in the gospel proclamation. God had used them this summer – had used them marvelously. People were in the Kingdom because of their labors. Once again, the lifeguards had managed to keep everyone safe. The food had been nourishing; the kitchen kept clean. Progress had been made in developing the facility. These guys had done a wonderful job, and the job they did mattered. Somehow, deep in my heart, the tune of “Thanks for the Memories” segued into a different tune with different text. . . “Praise God from Whom all blessings flow!”

Dan Whitney