Description: Summer camp teaches many lessons, but this one is not planned.
Excerpt: I don’t usually like giving advice, but here’s what I learned forty years ago when I was thirteen.
When you hang on by your fingernails day after day, you build up muscles. Then when you don’t have to grasp so desperately, the strength remains. Only you can use it however.
I first saw her at the parking lot where the bus was to pick us up for the trip to Minden to summer camp. From the moment I was mesmerized by her long blond hair, blue eyes and complexion that would make a peach jealous, there were capitals on She and Her. She even made the ugly green T-shirt that said ‘Camp Kanandaga – Staff’ look good.
I was also wearing one. I was going to be a CIT – that’s Counsellor-In-Training for those who never went to camp. It would be my first job, unless you count babysitting. Who knew that time with kids and the swimming lessons at the Y would pay off like that? As I discovered, all the other CIT’s were former campers. There was no pay, only free attendance, but my parents said if I stuck it out for the whole summer, they would give me the money they saved on food. Since they were always complaining about how much I ate, I assumed that would be substantial.