I was asleep on a hard wood cot with one of those old foam mattresses covered in striped ticking.   It looked about circa late 1950’s and felt even older.   But after a day of swimming, hiking, and keeping 6 year olds happy, it was still oddly comforting.  Even in the drafty cabin with the push out windows with holes in the screens that let in bugs bigger then a nickel… it felt like home for several months.
 
I was a camp counselor at a camp responsible for bringing inner city kids from New York City and creating memorable experiences exposing these munchkins to food, fun and fresh air.   Some of these kids had never seen a group of trees outside that of Central Park.    The forest of the camp was a scary place…   until we plied them with marshmallows and camp songs about Jesus to build up their security in more ways then one.
 
I worked at the Salvation Army’s gorgeous Star Lake Camp.  This was one of those magic summers in your life.  Filled with romance.  Filled with possibility.  Filled with expectations.   My parents actually were camp counselors for multiple year’s way back when with the classic camp story.  They met, they dated, they fell in love, they married, had a few kids, etc.  So their reality helped build up my hopes.   The camp held promise for me.   On so many levels.   I just always expected to find love at Star Lake Camp.
 
There was lots of flirting, kisses, and romantic days off strolling NYC with guys who couldn’t speak much English but looked so good I didn’t really care.   (The camp hired most of it’s workforce internationally and we had counselors from many different countries in Europe.)  There were small hikes through the woods to very private lookouts, lots of swimming in cool lakes and deep friendships forged in deep conversations and secrets.  It was a magical summer.  But not in the ways I expected.
 
Back to the cot.  So it was another morning.   Dawn was beginning to break.  The cot was hard.  I was in a dead asleep.   I felt cold damp air rush in as someone opened the sleeping bag.  I felt a warm leg slide in beside me and a body curl up behind mine.   Yikes!
 
I was immediately awake.   My heart was beating fast from the shock.  Then as the last moments of sleep gave way to consciousness, I heard some soft crying in the back of my hair.  I turned over and Carmen (Actually I can’t remember her name now, I just remember it started with a C, was a mildly exotic name and she had beautiful cornrows in her hair) snuggled against me.
 
“Would you take me with you and be my mommy?” she whispered in the dark.
I gulped.   In the darkness I reached out my hand and felt the head of a corn rowed child and realized it was Carmen.
“What’s the matter Carmen?”  I said softly. 
“I don’t want to leave today.  I love you.  I don’t want to go home”.
I gave her a big hug.  I comforted her.  My heart swelled with her love.
I knew then as I comforted her in the darkness, that one day, I wanted to be a mommy.
 
I didn’t know too much about Carmen’s situation, but what little glimpses of her life I saw, were not the glimpses one expects to see of a childhood.    A drunken guy who harasses her on the landing in her building.  Previous sexual abuse.  Foster Homes.   Not enough food on the table. 
 
I held Carmen and told her everything was going to be ok.    I explained that I was only a kid myself and couldn’t take her home with me because I was still in school.   We talked till the others woke up and she told me how much she loved camp and loved me for making camp so fun for her.   I made a difference to her.  She had a full tummy (and often full pockets, as she stuffed them with food every night to take home as contraband for future hungry nights) a full schedule of fun things to do and a full heart.    Her worries of inner city life slipped away for a week and she wasn’t ready to give this feeling up to go back there.  She felt loved.   And so did I.
 
Carmen did go back of course.   I could tell you all about our last hours together but truth is, they are what you would have expected and are pretty cliché.   Lots of tears, lots of hugs and a broken heart.    That would be mine I’m talking about.  It was hard to put her on that bus.  I had always expected to fall in love at camp, but just not like this.

So what did I learn there?  Oh I don’t know.    I just know that being a camp counselor and working with children affected me deeply.   I realized I didn’t want to go into corporate law.   I realized that being a mom was a high priority of mine and that children gave me spiritual energy.  I realized that giving to others was part of why I was put here on this earth.     Actually, there are so many lessons for me at camp I can’t even articulate them all here.   But one thing is for sure, I fell in love at camp in a way I didn’t expect.

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