KID COUNSELLORS
Many moons ago, I had the opportunity to be a counsellor at a youth camp. Little did I know the week would be full of adventures I would never forget. I certainly wasn’t prepared for the following from one of my new charges:
“Do you know how to make a mosquito explode?”
I confessed that I didn’t, but the conditions were apparently right for an on-the-spot field test. As the sun set, I—the voluntary victim, clad in shorts—together with my group of kids, watched and waited until a mosquito landed on me.
“Alright, now tense your muscles until it bites,” said my nine-year-old instructor, “And it’ll blow up, you’ll see!”
Three mosquito bites later I said, “I don’t think it’s working.”
“Maybe we’re doing something wrong,” frowned my instructor before slipping away in search of other adventures, leaving me to scratch my bites.
Having only learned to swim in my adult years, I never got around to learning how to dive. Since we had swim period every day, I was surrounded by eager coaches from my group.
“Put your head down, hands together, point at the water, bend your legs and push yourself o.” Splash! A belly flop, and another, and another—belly flop followed belly flop. Finally, one of my boys commented while looking at my tummy, “Your rolls are getting in the way.”
Later in the week, I had the honour of winning an impromptu
“Biggest Splash Contest” o the diving board against my boys and girls. I guess the rolls helped that time!
While canoeing one afternoon, the skies turned an ominous grey. The kids had not been too cooperative during our long outing, but on hearing the rumblings of thunder, they simultaneously began shouting, “Stroke! Stroke! Stroke!” and stroke they did, in perfect unison under threat of getting poured upon. We felt the first few drops of rain just as we safely reached the shore, but the canoe site was a quarter mile’s walk from camp. Wearing our life jackets, we had begun our walk back when it really started to pour. It was one of those moments you always hoped for as a child but never quite got... jumping in puddles, getting soaked in the rain with no parents around. We all giggled and shouted for more!
Like all good things, camp came to an end. I tried keeping in touch with my kids afterwards, but life continued and more pressing activities took centre stage. On my bulletin board at home, there hangs a photo of my camp kids wearing their life jackets and carrying canoe paddles. It takes me back to that week and reminds me that summer camp can be a wonderful place for children... even older ones like me!