Every summer since I was nine years old, I have gone to an Orthodox
Christian summer camp called Camp St. Raphael. By far it has always been my
favorite place in the world and the one week I look forward to all year. I get
to be surrounded by people who share the same beliefs as me, worship the same
way as me, and have been raised in similar environments as me. Last summer,
however, was the first summer I was old enough to apply to be a counselor so,
of course, I did. I applied and a couple of months later found out that I was
chosen to be on staff!
Two days before camp began, the last weekend in June to be exact, we had
a weekend of staff training. It was a really fun time where we learned what was
expected of us and what to do in different situations, while getting to know
the rest of our staff. I was the youngest person on staff and one of the only
new counselors so, while this was old news for everyone else, it was all new to
me. The night before the campers were going to arrive, we were hanging out in
our cabins and were told to put on flip-flops and head to the chapel. I walked
over there with my friends expecting just another informational talk, but when
I looked into the dark chapel, I knew that they had something different in
store for us.
We all silently sat on the two long black benches that were facing each
other with an aisle in the middle. Everyone was silently praying so I just
followed along. A few minutes later, Father James, our camp priest, told us
that he was now going to wash our feet with holy water Just as Jesus did to his
disciples to make us clean and prepare us to set a path for our campers. At
first, this thought was very weird to me. I was confused and more nervous for
the process than anything else; I was the last one on the last bench, though,
so I had time to watch and learn. As I watched, I saw Father James get on his
knees, put holy water on the first person’s bare feet, kiss them, and say
forgive me. Once the process sunk in, it hit me. This was a huge deal. He was
cleansing me from my past so I could make a clear path for my campers. I was
going to be a disciple to these kids and I had to make sure I did it right!
I sat on the bench with my head down waiting for my turn to come. As I was
waiting, I began to reflect on myself, my sins, my strengths and my weaknesses. During
this time of reflection I came to the realization that I was going to be a role
model for the kids at camp and really needed to do my best to live the way that
Christ lived- humbly and faithfully. When it finally became my turn, I got my
feet cleansed and our staff all stood up and began to sing some of our favorite
church songs.
Although this experience may seem insignificant to some, to me it was a
huge deal. It was my transition from being a camper, someone who constantly is
seeking advice and looking up to everyone, to being a counselor- the one who is
supposed to give advice. In our camp, the counselors talk to the campers all
year, too, so it has been an ongoing change. It has caused me to grow in so
many ways and realize how much my role models have affected me and how I want
to be that for my campers.
Your story brought me to some tears! I too have had a similar camp experience, so it was very heart warming to read about someone who had gone through the same thing. I love how open you are about how hard it is to be a role model to other children, especially when you’re representing Christ. It can seem so daunting, but yet it is so rewarding. It sounds like you had an amazing time there, and great job for all your hard work!
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