Today was "Christmas in July" in the kitchen. We all wore something red or green.The fans blared, sweat poured down our faces, and Bing Crosby softly crooned White Christmas in the background. Somebody was even wearing Christmas knee socks. Being in the kitchen ten hours a day does things to you.
The cold, hard morning light
glows through the
The air blowing through
the white box fan is chilly
Snuggle in my green blanket
Warmth creeps up my back
and into my heart
Tonight, we had chapel outside. I was listening, but suddenly I looked up, above the speaker's head, and my breath caught at the glorious scene.
The moon was a creamy-golden orb,
glowing in the sky
Hung in lavender-blue dust
Above the hard green edge of the mountain
A few minutes later, the moon had lost its luster, and the sky was a dull shade of blue. Remember to look up once in a while, or you'll miss the magic.
This morning, when I walked out of the bunkhouse, a heavy layer of fog hung in the air. The trees looked like ghosts rising out of the mist. It was beautiful.
Dad and Mom are always telling me not to write on my skin. But I don't listen. And now I'm paying for it. Last evening, I was bored so I was doodling on the back of my hand with my new purple pen. I went to bed without washing it off, got up this morning, and stumbled sleepily into the bathroom (I stumble everywhere in the morning). When I looked in the mirror, I saw something strange on my face. It was purple, and it looked rather like a flower. Furthermore, it was a flower and it was ink and it wouldn't come off. I also discovered that I still had ink on the back of my hand and also a curly-cue on my arm. Apparently, it was very good ink because it definitely and unmistakably would not come off. So it stayed there. Eventually, it faded to a neon pink which was a little better but not much. Someone told me to try packing tape to lift the ink off but for some reason I didn't particularly like that idea...
Campfire was tonight. We sat in the flickering orange light of the fire in the lake. As the glowing embers floated towards the sky, sweet testimonies of God's work in many hearts were spoken, lifting upwards to heaven...