Everywhere I looked there were crying ten-year-olds. Boy, was I panicked. Year after year, I had grown accustomed to my daily routine as an overnight camper. However, this summer was different. I was back where I began my first summer eight years earlier in Cabin 2. It was the first night. I was in charge and did not know the first thing about being a counselor.
As I sat in the cabin, surrounded by fifth graders, I reflected on memories of my summers as a fifth grader in this very same cabin. I experienced my highest highs and lowest lows as a camper. I reminisced about feeling homesick my first night of camp, when I fell off the rafters and received fourteen stitches in my head, and the time that I let a softball fly over my head costing my team the championship game. I also reflected on scoring the winning shot in the basketball playoffs, winning the camp chess tournament, and the best friends I made over the years. Camp is a symbol of the things that made my childhood so special. I speculated how different this summer would be, now that I had both
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I whispered, “Are you all right?” He nodded his head signaling that he was fine, while wiping his tears. I was nervous and considered walking away, but I knew that I needed to be more proactive. I said, “Come on. Talk to me. It will make you feel better.” He looked out the window. “I’m homesick,” he mumbled. “I want to go home.” After pausing for a minute, I shared my own camp experience with him. “I was homesick too,” I said. “I missed by family every summer. They are the best people in my life, and I wished they were here. Each summer, as I matured and became more independent, I missed my parents less. Most campers are homesick, but camp is about learning to separate from your parents.” He looked at me with the biggest smile on his face. I immediately felt a sense of