When Am I Supposed to Poop!?

7 name tags on necks. 14 socks on 14 feet in 14 shoes. 7 hobo packs cooked and 14 pieces of french toast cooked over a fire. 7 showers taken, 7 sets of teeth brushed (minus one lost tooth), 7 campers in bed. 1 reading of The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins, 3 bedtime songs sung, and 1 homesick camper cared for. 7 awards, 7 evaluations, 7 rocks.

And what about me? One thing that camp teaches you is how to be selfless. I eat last, go to sleep last, work for them on my time off, and have to put my wants and desires at the back of my mind. Because if they're in the front, it's impossible for me to love my campers. And for me, that's not an option. I do love my campers. More than I could have imagined or hoped.

Yes, it means that sometimes I don't get to finish my book. It means that sometimes I don't get to play guitar, or do exactly what I want on my time off. But one thing that is consistent about the great counselors here is that they put their desires on hold for their campers. Whether it's their comfort, their relationship, their pride, anything, the campers come first.

That kind of love is not seen in the outside world too often. Even some parents (thankfully, not my own to what I can remember) put themselves before their children. In schools, the emphasis is on your career, your wants, your future happiness and satisfaction. The benefit of others, service to the less fortunate, and acting out of love is often, if not always, last on the list. Regardless of whether or not we like this, it's the truth.

That's precisely the reason why I love camp. It's the way the world should be. Fear is crowded out by love. Campers come out of their shell because they try, and they try because they know they are safe. People are encouraged to speak only words of love and encouragement, not slander or lies. There is so much more, and hopefully in the coming weeks I'll find the words (and time) to express it all.

Oh yeah. Some days I just don't have time to poop.