Ahh, remembered shame. Ever find yourself stuck in a flashback of something that you hated the first time around?

I had gone to Kentucky with my church youth group. 15 years or so, ago. I had my 15th birthday while I was there. Our 'mission' was to paint and do minor repairs to the houses of some of the 'less fortunate' people living in the mountains.

I remember, we usually spent the nights on the way there in other churches of the same denomination. We brought sleeping bags and such, and slept on the floor. Girls in one room and boys in another. (Sometimes on the opposite sides of large rooms. It all depended on the accommodations.) We were always well chaperoned.

Chaperoned or not, when the adults fell asleep we generally found ourselves roaming the church, having chats, and generally having some very limited adventures. We never did anything bad, unless you call our very unorthodox use of the house of God a terrible thing.

Well, we got to Kentucky and we got settled into a bunkhouse. The first night we were there, there was a church song and dance troupe there from Wisonsin. It was made up of kids my age and a little older. I was totally intrigued. I'd always loved music, and performing. I hung out with them the rest of the evening, and got permission to stay with them in the church basement that night. Well chaperoned, of course. *cough*

So, what I didn't know, is that while this group did stay up past lights out chatting the night away, they apparently did not do so in mixed company. As a result, my addition of the boys to the group, with the added activity of roaming the church, was totally unorthodox.

Soon, it was only me and one other boy that was awake. Don't get me wrong, this kid was CUTE. More than cute enough to make my 15 year old self want things she had no idea about. The guy was a little older than me, and I truly don't remember doing anything inappropriate with him.

We finally went to bed, (yay for sleeping bags and floors) and in the morning I went off to eat breakfast with my own group. After our day of house painting and other good deed doing, I went to go visit my new "friends." I was turned away at the door, by a very righteous chaperon with a disgusted holy look on her face.

Apparently, someone decided that our misadventures of the night before had been wrong, and opted to tell on themselves. Word came round that the "last men standing" had been myself and this other guy.. and the votes were in! We had obviously been doing wildly inappropriate things.

We were there for a week. The song and dance troupe left in the middle of that. My group believed me, his group believed him.. The rest of the camp looked down their nose at me for the rest of the week. For a 15 year old, that was about as painful as it comes. My birthday was that week, and I don't think I ever had a worse one.

I never went on another summer camp trip with them again.

An interesting end to the story though. The associate pastor had come with us, and his wife was VERY pregnant. The day before we were supposed to leave, he got THE call. She was in labor. So, since we all came in church vans, and without both vans we weren't all going home, they called a meeting and asked for volunteers to go home early. As you can imagine, I volunteered.

Every time I think of this incident, it sends me into a dark mood. You know, the one where you feel like you're not worth anything.

It's weird how one episode from the distant past can affect your opinion of yourself now.