If these pine trees could talk, they would tell of fifty summers of a Christ-centered camp, a camp based on the philosophy of Fr. Champagnat.
If these pine trees could talk,they would tell of countless boys enjoying summers away from the city, perhaps from another country. They would tell of dedicated Religious and lay people spending their summers, usually, their only vacations, to staff the camp.
If these pine trees could talk, they would tell…
Of Brothers and Boats, of boys and bugs…
Of swimming and skiing, of sailboats and softball…
Of hockey, the “H” man, horses and “hung in irons”...
Of carnivals and canoes, cookouts and campfires and of course, Canteen.
If these pine trees could talk, they would tell of boys trying new things, improving on some skills, earning awards or knowing they could try again next year. They would rejoice with each boy’s accomplishments, green swim tags, bullseyes, a diving catch, or the biggest catch of the day.
If these pine trees could talk, they would share the marvelous scents of sunscreen, bug spray, model glue and burnt marshmallows.
They would remember sunburns, sprained ankles, swimmers’ ear, homesickness and bloody noses (especially from those boxing bouts). They would tell of the nurses and prefects treating each injury with care.
If these pine trees could talk, they would tell of Brothers constructing each building, board by board, nail by nail. They would reminisce of the men who created this place, names familiar to some, legend to others:
Bro. Sylvain, who found this property, Bro. Benedict, the first director, Bro. Berkie, Bro. Ernest, Bro. Johannes, Bro.Tim Linus, Bro. Joe Abel, Bro.Theophile, Bro. Sarge, Bro. Clem, Bro. Peter Hillary, Bro. Solano and all the others who constructed the camp. They would tell of the Brothers who still come to camp like Bro. Valerian, Bro. Denis, Bro. Scotty, Bro. Julio, Bro. Louis, Bro. Alphonse, Brother Godfrey, Bro. Ken Marino, Bro. Francis Thomas, Bro. Martin Thomas and Bro. Kenneth, who still brings enthusiasm to camp each summer.They would list all the Brothers who have contributed in ways great and small to carry on the spirit of Champagnat.
If these pine trees could talk, they would tell of fierce storms, forest fires and flooded beaches.
They would tell of the magnificent view of Mount Chocoura, the sky ablaze in crimson of a sunset, of Lake Ossipee in the early morning, looking like a huge mirror.
If these pine trees could talk, they would tell of cabin-mates, buddies, pals, and life long friendships. They would tell of dads who were campers, now sending their sons here to enjoy the wonders of summer camp.
If these pine trees could talk, they would surely tell of the Spirit of God, evident in the lives of campers and staff. They would tell of morning Mass, prayers at flagpole, cabin Masses and the evening prayers of boys from their bunk beds, prayers of thanksgiving for a beautiful sunset.
But of all the sights, and smells and sounds of camp, the one thing these pine trees would not be able to tell, would be the special mark left on each soul, past and present, who make up the true Spirit of Camp Marist.
