When I posted about this little stool the other day!!!!
If you are clueless about that of which I speak, see my previous post and then return here.
You see to me this little stool represents loss replacement. It is a very happy thing. I didn't even realize I was going to bring tears to eyes with the FIRST part of the story. But, evidently I made quite a few of you sad because you inundated this blog with sad comments. Well, OK, there were only 6 sad comments - - - but I call that a true inundation.
Then there were two of you who urged me to try to find the original stool - - - something I HAVE thought of trying to do. And my daughter, who knows the depth of my propensity to follow rules (that's a nice way to say I'm legalistic) said I was silly because I didn't just TAKE it when I saw my name on the bottom of it - - - in retrospect she may have a very valid point.
BUT - - - here is my response to all these things.
First of all, there is a certain tug at my heart strings wishing I could have my own Grandpa-constructed stool. That would be nearly more nostalgia than my little heart could stand. Because you see, not only did I ADORE that particular grandpa, but Burr Wesleyan Camp is deep in my veins. Deep in my veins.
I'm a PK who lived in three different communities as I grew up, but we spent at least three weeks at Burr Camp each summer, so it was HOME. It was our ROOTS. The other PKs were our siblings. We played "war" in the woods, gave each other really ridiculous nick names (which we thought were quite fabulous at the time), made a club house under the stairs, and engraved our names on the hallowed walls of Harmony Hall.
As we grew older, we found the most interesting boys on the planet at Burr Camp. We moved out of our parents' cottages and into the dorm. We dreamed of getting married someday in the tabernacle. We sat in the Pump House and played Concentratino for hours. Some of us (that would be my Sister Pam and her best friend) tried elaborate schemes to sleep somewhere other than our dorm room without getting caught by "Aunt Lois" the counselor, who just happened to be Sister Pam's and my REAL Aunt. (Oh that woman could walk on silent cat feet and was everywhere at once, so even though Sister Pam is a Sumna Cum Laude, she never succeeded in tricking Old Eagle Eyes.)
Burr Camp is where, at twelve years old I gave my heart and life to Jesus and understood what I was doing and stuck with it. Burr Camp is where I realized I needed to give 100% of the control of my life to the Lord, did so, and stuck to that. So Burr Camp is hallowed ground to me. (And to many others over many generations)
But I digress - - - back to my little stool. You see, mine was not the ONLY stool at camp. There were 5 or 6 of them. Mine may have been made for me, but when I was finished with it, it remained at camp, in the window sill, for future generations of camp children to use. That is why when I refound it as a 40 something year old adult who certainly didn't NEED to sit on it any more, I felt I should leave it there - - - allow it to continue with it's primary function of helping to nuture current and future camp children. It had it's own legacy to pass down.
Little did I know at the time that Burr Camp and all of it's trappings were going to be sold.
Now as for what happened to those little stools, mine included, I can only guess. You see, they were meant to be utilitarian. Though mine was well built by Grandpa, none of them were stained or varnished in any way. They were just little raw wood stools which had become gray and weathered over time. They didn't look like much when I found them still in the camp windows 36 years or so after I was finished using mine.
My guess is they were either discarded and burned, or were carted off by some folk who "squated" in the dining hall for the better part of a winter when the camp was no longer in use. If they were still in the window sills when the camp was sold, I would guess the current owners threw them away as their use may not have been obvious to modern day humankind. They may have just looked like trash.
However - - - the NEXT time I am near our beloved Burr Camp (which I think is now called Burr Ridge Rustic Retreat) I shall stop by and enquire. If I find my own precious little stool, I shall be sure to post about it here.
Now - - - please all my hordes of blog fans, dry your little eyes and REJOICE with me that the Lord chose to send the above pictured replacement to me. I am keeping it in my possession and in my sight. I am a happy, contented, peaceful stool owner again.
I love the story of the stool. I agree, it couldn't hurt to at least ask about the stool the next time you're in the neighborhood!
I LOVE that Keetha! Love that story...but still, wont you look for it. Just look. It doesnt hurt. I want that stool back with its owner.
Leigh - - - I WILL look, but the Camp is in Wisconsin, not near where we go on vacation either. I'm not sure when I'll be in that area again - - -
I remember Burr camp. . .
My word verification is "elityc". Is that an emetic for the elite?
Oh Groovy - - - I don't think you need a new brain at all!!!
That's a wonderful story and your attitude is what I'll take from it - that you have the happiness and connection to that time.
I do hope you find the original stool, though. :-)
Ahh but Amy & I did get by with one overnight escapade. In retrospect, the others that were intercepted by Aunt Lois are much more fun to remember!
I don't remember which one you got away with!!! But I CERTAINLY remember the failed attempts - - - they were so funny and so amazing that she ALWAYS caught you.
Here's my suggestion: Start a blog and let your FIRST post be the overnight escapades story. You would be an instant hit!!! Hey - - - you've already got the googld account AND a profile!
I love this post. I think you are storing up your treasures in Heaven Keetha!! Burr Camp sounds wonderful. Glad you have such great memories.
(I do feel better about the lost stool)
Thanks Jennifer - - - I'm glad you feel better, I never meant it as a sad story!!!
What hit me the most about this post is I could take it and re-post it as my own but change each "Burr" to "Fairmount". I really hope my children have a camp of memories of their own.
I wish I would have been old enough to understand the stool situation because I would have made you take it when you found it! :)
I think the year I found it was the last CYC camp I did up there and you weren't with me - - - Kyle was.
It's all ok - - - the Lord gave me this pretty little stool to take it's place and several Wisconian folk have it in the back of their mind to CHECK for me - - - maybe I'll check someday myself.
I have a lot of wonderful memories of Burr camp, as does the rest of my family.
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