Let me tell you about a terrific surprise my aunt sent to me.  I was attending Band Camp in late summer.  Band Camp consists of a week of uninterrupted sessions where performances are choreographed, music is memorized, and logistics are fine-tuned for the half-time performances for the upcoming fall football season.  Shows for band competitions are also learned during this time.  It is a week of structured activity and, frankly, hard work.

The location of Band Camp is at a rather isolated, rural setting.  Comfort is non-existent.  The cabins in which we stayed are old, dilapidated structures which house spider-ridden, musty-smelling cots.  They are arranged side-by-side and in bunks, accommodating as many campers as possible.  Talk about living in “close quarters”.  There is no other furniture in the cabin.  Even though these living and sleeping arrangements seemed undesirable and lacked privacy, we were so exhausted after our daily routines, we quickly adapted.

Meals were shared in a cafeteria setting.  The food, although filling, consisted of high-calorie, bland-tasting fare.  Nothing was fresh; everything tasted like it came from a can…and it probably did.  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.  In fact, the colorful assortment was so tempting, we began enjoying it immediately…watermelon juice running down our chins…peach nectar making our fingers sticky.  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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