Notes from Boys

I've never been one to get notes from boys. Never got the famous "I like you, do you like me, check the box, yes/no" note. If I ever got "warm fuzzies" on the bulletin board at school, it was from girls saying how nice, quiet, and sweet I was. But I do have two notes from two little boys that will always be very special to me.

My first week as Nature Director at camp, I got to entertain three cabins of Adventure campers (seven and eight year olds) for two hours at a time. The Assistant Nature Director, Katie, and I got used to riding the edge of chaos that week, and the rest of the summer was a breeze after that! All kids are energetic at that age, but Robert went above and beyond the call of ADHD duty. But there is this funny little place in my heart that loves kids like Robert, even though they can be quite exhausting. Maybe it's because they are so fully alive, and not content to just exist. They are actors, not simply reactors like most of the rest of us.

We survived the week with Robert, and kept him busy and active enough somehow to keep him out of too much trouble, and then came Sabbath programming. Among camp workers, there are a lot of debates about Sabbath programming--what is realistic and what is pointless. The programming that summer perhaps would have fit under the "too much work" category for some, but was honestly the most refreshing camp Sabbaths I experienced. I was at a station armed with small pieces of paper and and pencils, with instructions to have the kids write down any questions they wanted to ask God. (At the next station, which I also helped with that summer, we talked about the questions, and maybe attempted to answer when we shouldn't have...) Robert came up to me, with all his boundless enthusiasm, and asked if I could help him. I explained the idea a little more, and then helped him put together the sentences and spell out the simple words. After I finished helping him, I went on to helping other kids, but just as the group was starting to head on to the next station, Robert was back in front of me, with his silly smile and thick glasses, handing me another folded piece of paper. On the front was written a semblance of my name, and a "From Robert." Inside was a message that warmed my heart: "I like you, Andera, because you are very nice to each other."

Yesterday, I was reminded of that note when I got another from my young friend, Dishon. For his ninth birthday, I got him a toy recorder that changes the pitch and speed of recordings, making your voice sound like a chipmunk or Darth Vader. (My brother and I used to have hours of fun doing the same thing with a tape recorder when we learned the trick of trading out old and new batteries.) I figured he'd like it since he is quite a talker. And apparently he did, because yesterday in church, he got some help from Ben in writing this note...

A little later, he drew a picture of a house with wings and told me that Jesus loved me so much he was going to give me this big house that had wings. I think Jesus already has. Sometimes throughout my life I have wondered where I belong, where my home is, and He has truly taught me that I am always most at home when I am helping those that He puts in my life. I belong in His will, wherever that takes me--like a house with wings.

Somehow these little notes turn into messages from God that tell me how much He loves me. And I really don't miss the "check the box yes/no" ones quite so much.