Skip to main content

camp day2: not enough

One thing about camp that I was least looking forward to was eating in the cafeteria.
Well we are eating IN the cafeteria, but not going through the line.
I guess to save money.
Yesterday there was a big box of hot dogs, and chips and Capri Suns.
I was still pretty hungry after my one hot dog.
Today I was hoping for pizza.

Instead there were trays of chicken nuggets, another of hashbrowns (odd combo) and another box of clementines. I saw two volunteers frantically making plates as kids filed in and found tables. I went to help. Since I wasn’t wearing gloves they told me to pass out oranges. I reached into the box and felt something a little gooey. Not what I expected with oranges. The first few I pulled out were moldy. Something green and fuzzy was growing on the outside. I almost gagged. I started to let someone know, but figured they already did. So I pulled out most moldy ones and set them aside. I brushed the fuzz off the others and started passing them out.
I started to tell the other counselor in my group to avoid the oranges. But I felt kind of bad about that since I just passed out 21 of them to my kids.

They ran out of hashbrowns. And started filling in with leftover fritos.
Then they ran out of fritos.
Then they ran out of Capri suns.
Then they ran out of nuggets.
I think all of the kids got a plate, but most of adults didn't.

So I did what I could, and reached into the box and grabbed a Clementine.
Slightly fuzzy.
And peeled it quick, trying not to think about it.
And ate it.

Because I don’t think I could make it up to inspiration point and back without a little bit of energy.
Even if it was just a tiny moldy orange.

And I wondered how many times some of these kids had managed on less.
And suddenly I felt full.
Labels:

Comments

This Heavenly Life said…
Beautiful. Your positive outlook in the midst of moldy oranges is so inspiring :) I'm proud of you for doing this!
August 10, 2010 at 5:48 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

different

Someone recently sent me a meme about tattoos. I reminded them that I have over half a dozen, although none in such obvious places as the picture. I thought about it while I washed my hair, and how once my hair was also purple, and what kind of memes could be found about that. And also, my nose was pierced. Other than the first two tattoos, none of these were things I did in my youth. All were in my thirties. Currently my hair is a plain brown in a sensible cut. My tattoos all easily hidden with most clothing and only my ears are pierced. As this decade closes I have made efforts to dress more professionally, drink less, stay on top of the laundry although I still refuse to make my bed and talk at an appropriate volume level. Yet, I only looked back on my purple-haired days with longing rather than regret. See, I used to do those things to be different.   Sometimes I’d feel just a little trapped by my suburban life although perfect, felt a little too predictable. I fel...
Post a Comment
Read more

voice

I remember waking up the day after the election tired and stunned. When I got to work I went downstairs to make copies and make some tea and did not make it back to my classroom until right before the tardy bell rang. I have a large class, full of all kinds of students from all kinds of backgrounds. I had not even thought about how they would respond to the election and that since we begin school so early that I might be the first adult they saw that day.  Immediately an African American on the front row told me that she was disappointed in our country. I teach science, not government and thought that I needed to turn the conversation as quickly as I could safely back to the objectives on the board, but I could not ignore her hurt and the rest of the quiet in the room. I told her that  regardless of what candidate she supported that this country is run by more than one person, that very soon she would be able to vote, that she had a voice. Behind her, a student that also ha...
1 comment
Read more

multiple choice

As I write I am procturing a test ( yes on a Saturday, and no I am not getting paid for it.) The room is silent. The only noises I hear are pencils scratching on papers and pages turning. If I listen closely enough I swear I can hear their brains turning. I have always been a good test-taker. I would still regularly brag about my SAT scores if it wre socially appropriate to do so(or an actual indicator of anything meaningful). There is something comforting about multiple choice. (well as long as you don't have the crappy all of the above or none of the above choices...just the classic A, B, C, D variety). There are parameters. Multiple choice means you have options. The right answer is right in front of you, and all you have to do is find it. Even if you don't actually know which one the right answer is there are usually clues, it can be narrowed down or worked backwards. Even a blind guess is likely to be right 25% of the time. These aren't bad odds. All you have t...
Post a Comment
Read more