Everywhere I looked there were crying ten-year-olds. Boy, was I panicked. Year after year I had grown accustomed to my daily routine at camp, but this year was different. I had finally passed up through the ranks. Now, I was back where I began my first summer eight years ago in cabin 2. It was the first night. I was in charge and did not know the first thing about being a counselor.
I slowly skirted around the bunk beds, duffel bags, and clothes and finally made my way to a camper hovered in the back corner of the cabin and whispered, “Are you all right?” He shook his head signaling that he was fine, wiping his tears. I was nervous and considered just walking away, but I knew that I needed to be more proactive. I said, “Come on. Talk to me.
I slowly skirted around the bunk beds, duffel bags, and clothes and finally made my way to a camper hovered in the back corner of the cabin and whispered, “Are you all right?” He shook his head signaling that he was fine, wiping his tears. I was nervous and considered just walking away, but I knew that I needed to be more proactive. I said, “Come on. Talk to me.