Forgive me
For my inability
To use words to describe such a magical thing
As a place where everyone and everything
Matters
Where trees and people grow up
Learn to stand tall
And be strong
Together

How can I ever accurately convey
The wonder of each passing day?
The magic of each moment
From the nervous yet excited expressions on every girls face
The first time they tip over their canoe
Or a climb a rock without a harness
From the moment their eyes light up as they discover they have reasons to believe in themselves
To the final time they watch the sunset paint the sky and realize that they don't want to go home

Is there any way I could convince you
That better than the fresh clean air surrounding you
Are the people you meet there?
The ones you live with, cry with, sing with, succeed with
Some part of their character resonating deep within your soul
I mean how could it not?
For these are the people that turn a trip to the supply closet into a quest for Narnia
They're people that are fascinated by nature
Who want to share it with everyone

They're the best friends you could ever ask for
On walks back to your unit in the middle of the night
They'll reach out to you
Start telling you about their life
And you'll listen and share
And be a little bit surprised to find you legitimately care
Before you know it you're in a massive cinnamon roll hug with 20 people you hardly know
But you don't mind
Because no one will judge you when you're there
Put on a tutu and frolic through the woods
They'll join you
Be afraid around them
They'll encourage you
Be you around them
They will love you

Maybe I can't convince you that camp would be a good home to everyone
And maybe I'm just that weird girl clinging to her childhood for far too long
But imagine for a moment
Your last night there
Your final campfire
Everyone you've gotten to know and love wrapping their arms around you
And raising your voices in unison
To sing
Their voices combine with yours creating one roar of sound echoing through the quiet forest
Reminding you that though you may be just one voice singing
You are not alone

The next day you go home
Ride the bus down the mountain and experience a disconcerting sense of culture shock
The moment you see that first Starbucks approaching in the distance
You accept that it's over with the utmost resistance
You know that all you can do now
Is don your bread tags with pride
And wait for next year
All along reminding yourself that a part of you will always be there
Singing Scherman's song