entered into a nine-hour period of restoration of body and mind. Who
knows, but God himself, how many of the boys, and even leaders, while
wrapped warmly in their blankets have silently breathed out that old, old
prayer so full of faith, which has been handed down from generation to
generation:

Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray Thee Lord my soul to keep.

A prayer echoed by the camp director, for now is the only time of the
day's program when he begins to breathe freely, and is partially able to
lay aside his mantle of responsibility. A cough, a sigh, and even the
moaning of the wind disturbs this ever vigilant leader and he thinks of
his charges, until finally, weariness conquers and sleep comes.


THE WELL-ORDERED DAY

How shall the day be ordered? To the sage
The young man spoke. And this was his reply:

A morning prayer.
A moment with thy God who sends thee dawn
Up from the east; to thank heaven for the care
That kept thee through the night; to give thy soul,
With faith serene, to his complete control;
To ask his guidance still along the way.
So starts the day.

A busy day.