Camp Prayer

I wanted to write something funny and witty this morning. Actually I’d love to be able to do that any morning. But I’m in a very reflective mood this morning. And I know why. I sit here in a quiet house with little piles of stuff surrounding me. Both our teen sons leave tomorrow for a week long camp in the mountains. When I was 13, I went to a camp in the mountains. The camp was lovely. The experience was not. I became the target of the girls in my cabin. Most of the girls were lifelong friends. And here I was – odd girl out, and odd already. I was short and skinny with buck teeth and braces. I used an obnoxiously high-falutin’ vocabulary which only made me even more of a target. After all when you call someone obtuse and they think you just called them fat – well, they retaliate.

I’ve been the target of bullies most of my life. And it affected my life in many ways. But if you can find a positive in it, it would have to be that I am very conscious of how others are treated. And I’ve discussed bullying and its effects with our sons many, many times.

I changed the wallpaper on my iPhone this morning to a picture I took of the two of them headed into our school district’s Fine Arts Center before a band concert. The picture is evocative to me because you only see their backs. As I see it, my purpose in raising our children is so they can walk away from me into the world and make the world a better place. And that is my prayer as they go to camp. Please let them touch the world in a positive way and leave it better. Amen.