It's Over (part 2)

I decided I needed to write more on the subject of the last post, because I wanted to tangent off about Friday night campfire, without taking away from the effect of the last post. But before reading this post, I think it's a good idea to read the last one if you haven't yet.

http://mattpearson.blogspot.com/2011/04/its-over.html
It's important lead up to this.

For those who don't know what Friday night campfire is (and no words could really do it justice but I'm going to try) it comes at the end of the week at summer camp. It is the last time that we really have interaction with these scouts that we've been teaching for about a week, and have basically adopted as our little brothers. We get to meet their families, we give them our last goodbye hugs, there are some tears (I'm a pansy), we exchange emails and pretend like our relationship will continue past camp.

But camp is camp. The dynamic is impossible to reenact. The work, the epic fun, the growth of mind body and soul. All of this is packed up into one week at a time, and then (for us staff members) flashed before our eyes 5 times over the summer at the end of every Friday.

We sing our final campfire song, shoulder to shoulder, embracing this family that, for some of us, is closer than our own. And as the song ends, as we gaze out into the crowd searching and hoping that that scout, your newest little brother, hasn't already left. That he's gonna run up and give you one more hug before he leaves back into that scary world that you helped him forget about for that week.

All around us is this chaotic rush of appreciation as the crowd swarms the staff members, the outgoing kids leaping on the backs of their favorite counselors, and the quiet ones tapping you on the shoulder, Bye Ampy! see you next year!?

Of course buddy, and I'd better see you too

And as the scouts are slowly dwindling we look to each other. Hold back those tears, you're a man :). And MAN i'm gonna miss you and this week too.

As some camp staff walks away, dreading the inevitable miles of paper work soon to follow on this evening, there are those immobilized few.

The few that refuse to remove their gaze from the campfire.

The few that hope that if they don't close their eyes that the fire will never die out.That they can live in this moment forever.

But, eventually, the fire will die out. And next year they'll build a brand new fire with fresh new logs..

Those old Friday Night Campfires, they may not have all of the same pieces anymore, but the memory and warmth of it's flame: That's forever.