A Camper Essay... Read This!

One of our Senior campers wrote an essay for her English class. Her name is Kate and she is one of our fanatics (7 years) who would rather be at camp than anywhere else. She is the pictured below (new trick in the news page, just now released). Her essay was on my desk on opening day and I just got permission to publish it… I think she has captured something here. READ ON if you want to cry. Read on if you don’t “get it” yet.

MEET KATE A “TYPICAL” CAMPER WITH A UNIQUE VOICE

The slight drizzle outside my car window mirrors my mood and my tears exactly. Thinking of rain at camp evokes good memories. Each drop’s ping on the tin roof of my cabin lulled me to sleep during the extended rest hour. Margo made me crack up every time she did her “Let it rain” move to Jesse McCartney. Rain hardened the flour covering our bodies after a flour sack toss. However, now the rain feels different. It reminds me of these treasured memories spent with my best friends, and I want to turn the car around to start the session over. Thinking of my excitement on the first day of camp makes my tears fall faster. Not even seeing my family, sipping an ice-cold Diet Coke, and sitting in air-conditioning can stop my tears from streaming down my face. They slide off my cheeks and plop onto the pile of folded letters in my lap, leaving a wet blob smearing Ali’s already messy handwriting.

It’s a camp tradition to write “plane letters” to every girl in the cabin. In these letters we record favorite memories, write the hundreds of inside jokes we now have, compliment the unique gifts each girl brings to the cabin, and share all contact information — “Call, text, and facebook me everyday!” If I had cell service that’s exactly what I would be doing, but in the Carolina mountains one bar is considered lucky.

Trying to distract myself, I sit up to turn on the radio. I had been looking forward to listening to my music for weeks since I had become sick of my counselor’s country favorites that played on repeat. Strangely, right now her music is all I want to hear.

My stomach growls reminding me that it’s dinner time; the dashboard clock reads 6:00. At camp the flag bugle rang at six o’clock sharp. We hustled to the lawn to line up in our cabin’s assigned spot. The instant the song rang over the speakers, all 500 campers raised their right hand in salute as the seniors lowered the flag. Then we proceeded to the Dining Hall for another delicious meal. Fast food will not sate my cravings tonight; all I want is a slice of Greystone’s homemade bread smothered in honey.

Now, the radio blasts Justin Bieber’s “Baby,” and snaps me out of my daydream. I think of my cabin’s Lip Sync on the third night of camp. We made complete fools out of ourselves, but none of us cared – we couldn’t have been happier when we were fist-pumping and jumping up and down on the pavilion’s stage to Bieber’s meaningless lyrics. More tears slide down my face and my mom eyes me questioningly.

The rain begins to thicken and my mom turns up the windshield wipers. Their whooshing back and forth sounds so regular and monotonous. Their drone reminds me that soon I will have a strict and stressful schedule imposed upon me. The month of carefree girl time, unconditional acceptance, and nonstop laughter is now over. In two weeks, I will start school again and switch from cabin-mates to classmates, counselors to teachers, and activities to classes.

A car with trunks and duffle bags filling the rear window passes and I notice a green Camp Greystone bumper sticker. I realize that maybe I don’t have to be at camp in order to be inside the “Greystone Bubble.” I can try to incorporate all that I have learned this summer into my “real” life away from camp until I return next year. Now, instead of crying because my mom won’t make a U-turn back to camp, I smile because I can continue forward, hopefully with a little more wisdom and independence than I had a month ago.