By: Theresa Armstrong

When my dad died we were in the middle of selling Girls Scout cookies and my sister and I were both scouts.

I was 14-years-old and she was 12 so I think we would have been Senior Scouts.

We had dozens and dozens of boxes of cookies at the house when Dad died. The decision was made to take him back to Pennsylvania for burial. So I called my scout leader and told him I could not sell the cookies. I remember the phone call to my scout leader just like it was yesterday.

He thought I had gotten into trouble and chuckled just a little when he asked me why. I immediately broke down in tears and told him the story of my father dying. He told me not to worry they would come by and get both my sister's cookies and mine.

We left for Penn shortly there after and the cookies were forgotten.

After the funeral we returned to the Florida Keys and life should have returned to normal but one of the most important people in my life was missing and I was incredible sad. Things were the same and yet everything was so different.

It was one of the most difficult years of my life and I have very few memories of that year except for a trip we took during spring break.

It was thanks to those Girl Scout cookies that I was able to take one of the most memorable trips of my life. The money made from selling those cookies financed the trip.

We had a male scout leader, who was the dad to one of the girls and the assistant leader was also a dad.

During my years in that troop we went camping more and went to more scouting events than I had during the previous 6 or 8 years I had been a scout.

That spring break our scout troop went on a canoe trip down the Peace River in northern Florida.

We left on the Friday afternoon that school let out and traveled for hours until we reached our destination.

I cannot tell you how many girls there were or even how many extra moms went along, but I remember that trip and what a healing effect it had on my life.

It was in April and my dad had died in January 30 years ago.

We stopped somewhere and picked up six canoes to ride in for the next week.

Most of the details and memories are too foggy for me to recall and I have few pictures from the event to bring back additional memories.

What I do remember is getting up in the morning, eating breakfast and canoeing down the river until lunch time, when we would stop again.

Then we would resume our water voyage down the river until dinner time. I am sure our scout leader had the exact amount of miles we had to travel before stopping and knew exactly what we were doing.

Menus were made out and food was stowed in each canoe. We were all warned about

tipping our boats because it was our own stuff that would sink to the bottom of the river.

I really do not remember a single canoe even tipping over during the whole week. I do remember that most of the time the water was not very deep. None of us wore life jackets and I am almost certain that we were all very good swimmers.

There were aligators on the shores and they did not bother us a bit. They just went about their business and we went about ours.

There were cows on the side of the river also. We were all very fascinated with the animals, because we all spent more time in the ocean than on any farm and the only four legged wildlife that was around was the Key Deer that could be found in Big Pine Key. So to see these cows close up was fascinating for some of us.

We took turns riding with the leaders and I remember one day in the middle of the trip I was stuck with the assistant leader. He was a good-nature fellow that everyone enjoyed riding with.

He made me pull over to the shore in the middle of the day. Mother nature was calling and he needed a break.

I got bored sitting in the canoe waiting for him to return and left the shore about the time he came back. I was just far enough away for him not to be able to get back in the canoe without swimming. He did fuss at me about bringing the boat back.

I was tickled that he was stuck on the shore and I went downstream a little ways as he ran on the banks after me.

He started to throw dried-up cow manure at me as he chased me down stream. It was all fine and good until one of those hard, black frisbees hit me and I got grossed out.

I decided that I had better go pick him up as his aim was way too good and I did not like the idea of cow crap being thrown at me.

The other very distinct memory I had was when we were in the water washing up. We had our bathing suits on because we were just a little too shy to bathe any other way.

There were about five or six of us standing around and I had a bar of Ivory soap that I was using. It slipped out of my hand and continued to float. We laughed and were surprised I did not lose my soap to the bottom of the river.

My sister was using a different brand and released her soap as she rinsed her hair. Hers did not float and she lost her soap. I had to share my Ivory with her the rest of the trip.

I have no idea why these are the memories that stick out the most because the entire trip was one I will never forget.



Within the next few years I would travel to Disney and go on many other trips but that trip down the Peace River remains with me unlike the others.

It was as though God knew the one thing I needed in my life that spring was a little peace and he sent me on that river for just that reason.