By the time we are done, the crying has already started. Even boys cry openly, weep uncontrollable tears. Everyone finds the people they need to embrace, that need to be embraced. The children tend to each other. No one is neglected.
The Last Campfire
Camp Rising Sun, Colebrook CT
dateline: 08/26/00
Thursday afternoon always features an open waterfront, the counselor-camper two-on-two basketball tournament, and a last chance at Arts & Crafts. Then dinner - usually pizza - followed by a half hour to dress and get ready for the evening activity.
Over the years, the last night of camp has become a strict ritual. Children and counselors file quietly into the Council Circle to the whine of the bagpipe. As we enter, each of us holds out a small paper bag which one of the camp directors fills with a garden spade full of dirt. The bags have been decorated and dedicated. "In Memory Of _________." We all have our memories.
Each finds a place marked by a candle, and when everyone is present, 120 souls, the candles are lit and lowered into the bags, making paper lanterns which we place at our feet. As the sun sets, campers and counselors find words to say to the group. Moving around the circle, each of us dedicates our light to a friend or family member who has died, or thanks the group for the infinite small gifts of love that have been exchanged during the too-short week and which carry us through the rest of the year. A teenage boy is followed by a middle-aged counselor who is followed by a six-year-old girl whose tiny voice can barely be heard over the crickets. Some pass their turn in silence. The eloquence is humbling.
When the circle is complete, Meghan and I retrieve our guitars and begin the song.
"May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind always
be at your back
May the sun shine warm upon your face, and the rain softly fall
on your fields..."
It's an old Irish prayer. No one joins in. They just listen, letting the song rise up into the night.
"And until we meet again, until we meet again
May God hold you, hold you
safe in the palm of his hand."
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By the time we are done, the crying has already started. Even boys cry openly, weep uncontrollable tears. Everyone finds the people they need to embrace, that need to be embraced. The children tend to each other. No one is neglected.
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After twenty minutes or so, the logs are set ablaze in the campfire pit and we strike up the chords of "Stand By Me." Now, in the firelight and the dark, everyone joins in. This year, the set has been carefully planned by Meghan and Becky. It moves quickly from the sacred to the silly. At the end of "Puff," Richard the arts & crafts teacher comes out on the stage dressed as a dragon. The way he says "I'm not really a dragon..." to the younger kids as he pulls off the mask almost convinces them that they had in fact thought for a moment that he was one. "Although my wife sometimes says I am..." he offers in an aside to the rest of us. Then he begins: "This is a do as I do, say as I say, repeat after me song."
"This is a do as I do, say as I say, repeat after me song!" we all chant back.
"Going on a lion hunt..." And we're off.