There’s a place on Morris Avenue in Springfield where, if you look really quickly, you can see the trailer for the Springfield camp site. I bring this up because I pass that spot every day on my way home from school and the first time I see it each year is a very happy day for me. It means that camp is starting.
Now camp is ending and it’s time to reflect on the last eight weeks. It was an incredible summer. I started working at Camp Yachad 21 years ago and this may very well have been my favorite summer ever. I say this because I realize more than ever how remarkable this place is. Camp is more than hundreds of campers and counselors having fun doing a lot of great activities. Camp is a community. It’s a family who work and play and eat and, in some cases, live together for eight weeks in the summer. Sometimes we don’t get along, but most of the time we do. We accept each other for who we are. From the youngest of campers to the oldest of staff we are one. Once we put on the blue, or orange, or green shirts with the words, “Camp Yachad” on it we are a family.
Now I won’t see this family for another forty-four weeks and I will miss them deeply. But all I know is that in forty-two weeks I’ll be driving down Morris Avenue looking for the trailer, knowing that camp is about to start again (not that I’m counting).