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I have an aunt who is one of the most thoughtful, giving persons I know.  She sent a package to me that truly helped me through a very trying time in my life.  I was at Band Camp late in the summer.  Her own daughter had attended this same one a few years earlier.  Band Camp is a week of rigorous instruction in which performances for football half-time shows, as well as week-end competitions are learned.  It is an extremely strenuous activity, as choreography, music memorization, and fine-tuning skills are perfected.

Band Camp is located in an isolated rural place, far from comfortable amenities and distractions. The camping cabins are rustic, smell of mildew, and are spider-ridden.  Not only did we have to adjust to sharing personal space with fellow band members and their annoying habits, we had to sleep on lumpy, musty mattresses.  Even though sleeping arrangements were uncomfortable, exhaustion from each day’s activity made these conditions a welcome respite.

Meals were shared in a cafeteria setting; campers sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on hard benches.  The food consisted of bland-tasting, fattening choices.  Nothing was fresh; everything tasted like it came from a can…and it probably did.  Because we were so active, by the time meals were served, we were so hungry that we really didn’t care what we ate, as long as it was filling.

The week I attended Band Camp, the weather was hot, humid, and uncomfortable.  Practices were brutal and the pressure of living in this kind of environment, as well as the mental and physical demands, made me miss home. 

One day, about mid-week, I was particularly frustrated.  The rigorous activity and the living conditions were getting to me.  I was hot and tired.  My muscles were sore and I was probably slightly dehydrated.  My allergies were making me even more uncomfortable, depriving me of much-needed sleep.  My muscles were sore and I was probably on the verge of dehydration.    During a short rest break, my fellow campers and I heard the roar of a UPS truck coming down the lane.  “Oh great”, I said.  “Probably some more of that fattening food being delivered”, added my friend.  Imagine my surprise (and delight) when the Band Director called out my name with his megaphone to inform me that it was I who had the delivery.

As I hurriedly tore the heavy box open, while fellow campers stood around and watched, I found a hand-written note from my sweet aunt, whose own daughter attended Band Camp a few years before.  “I know how you need to keep up your energy.  Enjoy!” 

Inside the huge box was a beautiful bushel basket brimming with a variety of delicious, fresh fruit.  Sweet and juicy peaches, plums, and nectarines were abundant.  There was an assortment of McIntosh and Granny Smith apples; Bartlett and Bosc pears; red and green seedless grapes.  Juicy nectarines and peaches were also included.  Sealed packages of raisins, dried cherries, and banana chips were thrown in, as well.  Best of all, was a gigantic, ripe watermelon.

My aunt’s note said to share; so share, I did.  There was enough fruit for everyone to enjoy.  This basket of fresh fruit was the healthiest we had eaten all week.  We savored each nutritious bite.  It gave us the energy we needed to make it through the week.  It refreshed us enough to calm our nerves.  It gave us the nutrition we were lacking so we could focus and concentrate on what we needed to learn.

Because of my aunt’s thoughtfulness, I look back at my Band Camp experience with fondness.  Sending me the Fruit Basket turned out to be the encouragement I needed to keep me going…to keep me focused…to see me through to the end.  It was such a great idea; I will never forget how much I appreciated it.  In fact, I plan to send a deliciously fresh Fruit Basket to other band campers in years to come.

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