Ten Months for Two
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As I prepare to welcome over 300 campers to their summer home, I appreciate “living ten
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What is it about summer camp that makes us count down the days, and then all too quickly find ourselves in tears as we say goodbye to summer, ready to start the countdown all over again (23, 22, 21…)? Is it the beauty of camp? Just thinking about the view of Lake Potanipo as I walk through the tree covered path that connects the boy’s area to the waterfront makes me smile. The colorful sailboats, filled with happy children surrounded by blue skies and hills of green, is definitely worth a countdown.
Many of us look forward to the new things we learn at camp. How many of you have gotten up on water skis for the first time at summer camp? Our children learn skills that give them confidence on the ball field, on the stage, on the water, in the woods and in the art room. They learn the Birkat Hamazon, the blessing that is said after a meal, hand motions and all. Evening TV shows are replaced by talent shows, Four Square tournaments and Capture the Flag. The days are filled with activities from morning wake up until evening bunk talks and counselor bedtime stories (20, 19, 18…).
All of our activities are done with our friends by our side. Friends who encourage us to try one more time to make that basket and then cheer us on as we sink the shot. Friends who yell “we love you” in unison as we take the stage. Friends who walk arm in arm together, laughing as we sing off key. Friends who allow us to be ourselves and to take risks, all without judgment (17, 16, 15…).
Ten months have passed since the end of the 2011 season and in just 14 days we will be enjoying the best two months of the year. But, who is counting?
It has been decades – decades – since I was at Tevya. And yet, when I read the term “Ten Months for Two” I so identified that I almost burst into tears. I counted each and every day from the day I was forced to leave — well, it was the end of August and school was about to start…. I would have stayed and hidden out under my bunk and lived there for the entire year, but my parents came and literally peeled me off of the ball field and stuffed me, like pillow batting, into our car! — until the first day of camp when we drove by Aaron’s cabin and the infirmary into the camp. And it is true: that every June since then I have wished that my old, battered, army-green foot locker was being packed by me and my label-sewing mother and that I was, for those eight, glorious, wonderful, all-too-short weeks — amidst verdant woodlands.
Nancy, thank you so much for sharing your Tevya memories. I love hearing the stories from people whose lives have been touched by this very special place. Years later, kids still have those same feelings about our camp. I hope you get a chance to come visit. We would love to welcome you back to camp!
Mindee