One summer morning in a mission camp where I was serving as a teacher of Galatians to junior high youth, a bird appeared at morning devotions, and lighted on the head of one of the girls. From there the bird hopped to her arm and then onto the arm of another camper and then another. The bird seemed to be looking for someone. We learned later that it was indeed a tame bird, the pet of a camper in an adjoining camp. We were also told that some boys in our camp had thrown sticks at the bird and frightened it so much that it would not come out of the woods.

The following night, at campfire, one of the counselors got up during our sharing time and told this story. When the bird came among us yesterday morning I was reminded of another camp I attended many summers ago when we were visited by a bird in much the same way. It proved to be a most remarkable bird, and the wonders it worked among us I shall never forget.

It was larger than the bird we saw yesterday, about as big as a pigeon -- black on top with a snowy white breast -- with the most peculiar array of feathers I have ever seen. I have never seen one like it before or since. It came to bring us a blessing at a time when a blessing was very much needed. Our camp was full of dissension. The campers had little respect for the camp, for their fellow campers, or for the counseling staff. They wrote graffiti on the cabin walls and interrupted the counselors with obnoxious noises and giggling during evening devotions. Campers teased one another and called each other hateful names. The counselors had to break up several fights, including a food fight one day in the dining hall during lunch.

There was one boy who was older and bigger than the rest who was the instigator of much of the disharmony and fighting. His name was Johnny. He would start the teasing and then egg others on until a fight had erupted. He got the food fight going simply by daring one of the other boys to throw spaghetti at a group of girls. Conditions in the camp reached a low point when Johnny's cabin raided one of the other cabins. They dumped their luggage on the floor and threw their sleeping bags in the lake. The director tried everything she could think of to restore order, but nothing seemed to work. She was ready to call some of the parents and ask them to come and take their campers home. And then the bird appeared -- suddenly, as if out of nowhere -- on a cold and rainy evening as we were all gathered here around the campfire. It hopped softly and gently among us, flitting from one camper to another, lighting on a head here and an arm there, spreading joy and love as it went. The bird stayed with us for several days. Peace returned to our camp.

One of the counselors, a man in his 70s who had been coming to the camp for many years, told us one night at campfire that it was a spirit bird sent by God to show us how to live peacefully together. Johnny whispered to some of his friends that it wasn't true. He said it was an evil bird, and that if we didn't do something, it would spread disease and sickness throughout the camp. After the campfire Johnny's friends lured the bird into the woods with some bread left from their supper and then pelted it with sticks and stones until it was dead. Johnny watched from behind a tree, and later, when the director asked him what had happened to the bird, he claimed that he had had nothing to do with it.

The next day the old counselor and several of the campers carried the bird's body out to the meadow and laid it gently in a shallow grave beneath the shade of a small pine tree. Then they joined hands and prayed the Lord's Prayer. On the path back to the camp as the little band of faithful mourners sang "We Are One In The Spirit," Johnny and his friends jumped down from a tree from where they had been watching the burial and pelted them with water balloons.

Later that week Johnny plotted with his friends to raid one of the neighboring camps. They planned to soak their sleeping bags with water balloons. When they were about halfway down the path the spirit bird appeared suddenly over their heads, as if out of nowhere. It dove down and landed on Johnny's head with such force that he was knocked to the ground. Then the bird perched on his arm and spoke to him in a human voice. "Johnny, you cannot kill the spirit of God. Whenever I am struck down, I rise up with greater strength and power than before. I want you to go back to the camp and tell everyone that I am alive. Teach them to live by the Spirit."

Johnny went back to the camp and began immediately to tell everyone that the Spirit bird was alive. He became one of the most fervent followers of the Spirit, spreading love, joy and peace wherever he went. I know because I am Johnny. I am the one who caused the other campers to fight with each other and to kill the spirit bird. But since the spirit bird spoke to me, I have been living with the Spirit in my heart. I have not seen the spirit bird since that day on the path, but I see signs of its presence everywhere." Then the old counselor opened a pouch that he carried on his belt and took out a handful of black and white feathers. He walked around the fire circle and gave a feather to each camper and counselor. We closed our campfire that night by joining hands and singing, "We Are One In The Spirit."

Author's Note: This story is dedicated to the campers and counselors of the July 1990 Mission Camp at Lake Lucerne near Neshkoro, Wisconsin -- with special thanks to our director Karen King and my fellow teachers, Isabel Molina Jefferson and Dick and Pat Myer.