Sue

There are experiences that shape us, that we can point to and say - without that - I wouldn't be me. There are people who touch us, who speak into our lives by word or deed - and their effect is lasting.

She did.

I was a little girl when I met her, maybe 7 or 8, picking up my sister from camp. Camp Desoto. It wasn't my turn yet, but she remembered me, by name, each time I came.

I was 11 when I spent my first summer at Camp Desoto, four weeks on Lookout Mountain, Mentone, AL. I had been dying to go, but the anticipation and the reality are not the same thing even for a child as independent and adventurous as I was, and the "very bad feelings" I had during those first few days away from home without a friend took me completely by surprise. I knew I couldn't be "homesick" because I didn't WANT to go home, I wanted to LOVE CAMP! But there were certain times of day when that terrible sick feeling would come. I did not tell a soul how I felt. But she knew. Sue knew.

"Laurie Felder (pronounced Lawrah Feldah), sit down here and tell me how you are" in that lovely, old Mississippi drawl. Without having to say, "I know you are sad right now but you will be fine", she was saying, "you are loved, I see how you feel, I know you don't want me to point out your sadness because you want to love it here and you will... don't worry.. you will. Give it time. Come sit with me anytime."

Sue Henry was a camper, counselor, and then owner/director of Camp Desoto. By the time I came along, she was an older women but she never seemed to age. The six summers I spent at Desoto, Sue was a fixture. She greeted us each July (2nd term is the best) with the beloved and much imitated words, "Here at Camp Desoto, we are unapologetically square", which sounded like this - "Heeah at Camp Desotah, we ah unahpalagetically squawah". Beautiful words that meant retreat, respite, relief, permission to rest in the purity of simple possessions, slower pace, modesty, and love.

Loving God, loving staff, and Sue. The same every year. During a time of uncertainty at home, camp was consistent, and I grew there, toward my Saviour.

My love and respect for Sue grew by leaps and bounds when, during our last year as 16 year old campers, we were given the opportunity to "retreat" at Sue's cabin on the mountain. She was a model of the loveliest spiritual disciplines and I remember her inspiring us to practice solitude. She painted a picture of the challenge - remove music, friends voices, even your Bible, clear your thoughts of plans, and reflect, soak in what God lays on your heart. Then she sent us out onto the mountainside. It was so much harder than I expected, even in that lovely setting on the brow of the mountain. But she had planted a seed in my heart which has grown into a craving for quiet and listening.

I came on staff at Desoto to teach horseback riding after my freshman year at Ole Miss, and unlike many other 1st year counselors, I was given a cabin of 12 and 13 year old girls, rather than the youngest (7-11 year old) campers. I did not have the confidence in myself that Sue apparently did, but she could see things I chose not to. She knew that difficult circumstances in my childhood had "grown me up" beyond my age and that though I was choosing not to display it, I had the maturity needed for older campers.

During staff training she shared with us that we are fully about selflessly loving little girls and it is not possible to love little girls with out first being filled up with God's love; we must carve out our own time with God. What could have better prepared me for mothering? I took many dilemmas to her for advice and prayer and never left her porch without a sense of peace and a plan. She knew so very much about little girls.... and big girls. Phil and I were dating at this time, and establishing our plans for the future, and she asked and then listened so carefully all about him, and remembered every detail for years after. I can't imagine the hundreds of girls who have been touched by her wisdom and love. And I, like many others, was convinced she had a direct line to God's ear. The time I spent each morning in Staff meeting with Sue and other amazing young women I was on staff with will always be a most cherished memory.

"Sarcasm is the humor of small minds, " she would say in her most genteel manner. Sue was an English teacher before being at camp full time and she loved a beautifully written or spoken phrase. She spoke gently and kindly with wisdom and love.

Two years ago, in the fall, my family spent a long weekend at Camp Desoto at family camp. I was taken by surprise by the intensity of my emotions and memories when we drove through the gates. From the dining hall ramp, the gym balcony, the slam of cabin screen doors, and the riding rings where I saddled hundreds of sweet camp horses and gave leg ups to that many little girls, I was so deeply happy for my family to be experiencing my beloved Desoto. But best of all was the fact that from the dining hall porch, I heard "Lawrah Feldah (Newman), sit down heeah and tell me how you ah. And these ah yorh boys... and Hannah. Hello theah Phil, and how are you? Now you ah in Muhfreesberah......" Every detail, still. My family now knew Sue.

Tonight I join hundreds of little girls, big girls, college girls, mamas and grandmothers who loved and grew under the prayerful guidance of Sue Henry in saying goodbye, for now. I am so grateful for the time I spent with Sue and the ways that she shaped my life.

She bestowed on us

"a crown of beauty

instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will (she, and that we might) be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of his splendor."

Isaiah 61:3

I can't fathom the magnitude of a legacy like hers.

(Camp Desoto continues to flourish under the direction of owner/directors Phil and Marsha Hurt and my friend and program director Jennifer Miller.)

*emphasis mine