Summer Camp: Week One

As you may or may not know, I am working as a camp counselor for the second consecutive summer. When my alarm clock goes of at 6:00 AM (Monday through Friday), my drowsy self wonders why I would choose to spend my summer being responsible for the safety and entertainment of hyper, whiny, and sassy children. 

But then I get to camp. A camper runs over, gives me a (side) hug, and says "Hey Miss Amanda! I can't wait to go swimming today! Look at my hat! Isn't it cool?!? Guess what, I brought a fruit roll up for lunch! Did you know I can catch lizards with my bare hands?!?"

I smile, laugh, and think to myself, "I get paid to hang out with kids all day, goofy and crazy as they are.

Does it get any better than this?"

Last summer. Not my hand(s).

Most days I come close to tears. Sometimes through laughter, sometimes through learning about the kids' family circumstances , and sometimes just in awe of how beautifully unique God creates each of His children. They are all SO different.

This summer I get to work with the "red group" (a.k.a soon-to-be third graders, a.k.a eight year olds.)

Memorable moments of week one: 

 Scene: Arts and crafts time. Activity: Draw a picture of you and your family, and write three things about yourself. Camper: Stands up and proudly holds up his piece of construction paper. "This is a picture of my family. And the three things about me are: I'm fast, I'm awesome, and everybody loves me." Sits down.  

 Scene: The playground, which is adjacent to a big blacktop, basketball court, tent with picnic tables, and vending machines off to the side. I was walking around the playground during "free-play" time, and came across a camper crouching in a small place between the vending machines and the wall. Obviously, this concerned me. 

I walked over and not so calmly asked, "WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU DOING?!"

"Well, its really, really hot," replied the 6 year old "and there is a fan back here inside the vending machine, and its keeping me cool."

Bless his little heart. 

Scene: Arts and crafts time. The kids were using beads and yarn to make necklaces and/or bracelets 

(only slightly less tacky than macaroni jewelry). I walked around the room, supervising and talking to the kids. One little girl looked up at me and said "I'm making mine for someone special." 

"Aw, thats sweet," I said. "Who is it for? Your mom?"

Her response: "No, I don't live with my mom. She did too many drugs. It's for my grandma."

No emotion in her sweet little face, and only a tone of certainty in her voice. 

Heartbreaking can't even describe it.  

This week we had a camper that has a seemingly mild form of Downs Syndrome (I'll refer to him as Johnny). My first thought when I saw him Monday morning was "Oh no, we are going to have to help him do everything and the kids are going to be plain awful to him." False. Turns out Johnny is high functioning, hilarious, sweet as can be, and really popular among the other campers. It was almost as if the kids (especially those with behavioral problems) were magnetized to him.  They loved him, and were genuinely kind to him. One 9 year old boy that constantly gets reprimanded and put in time out spent close to an hour throwing a kickball back and forth with him one morning. And then he proceeded to help Johnny get water from the cooler whenever he was thirsty. It was heartwarming, adorable, and completely the opposite of what I would have expected. Halfway through the week I jokingly asked Johnny if I was his favorite counselor. "No, " he said, "you are my friend!" 

Melted. My. Heart. 

My new group of friends on this week's field trip to the bowling alley.

I am so eager to see what the rest of this summer has in store. I have so much to learn, and I know God has so much to teach me through these precious little people. Lessons in patience, compassion, and humility would be a good start. 

 I need to constantly remind myself that every word I say and every little thing I do could stick with them for a long, long time.

What do I want them to remember?