Camper and Volunteer Story - Sarah
Camper and Volunteer Story - Sarah
Camp of the Woods.
On paper, Camp of the Woods is a youth summer camp. I attended as a camper from age 8 to 16. I was on seasonal staff for many weeks (with a few gaps) when I was 15 to 23 years old, then here and there in my late twenties. And, like many young adults who have lived nearby, this extended far beyond the summer for me: I took many opportunities to join in for fall events and winter camps, Valentine’s banquets and March day camps, and visits in between. That’s my timeline.
But, as for many, Camp of the Woods is a place near and dear to my heart. It’s another home in Northwestern Ontario. I grew up in the area and watched my older sisters go to camp before me, just waiting for my turn to live the stories they came home with. Over the years, it became the place I would visit when I was home from university (or elsewhere) to see my family. It still is.
I count the current staff as dear mentors and friends.
My time at camp began as an experience.
I was a Robin, an Eagle, and a Heron, and somehow also a Beaver?
I raced to the flagpole after hearing the bell.
I crunched along the gravel on the chapel walkway where I then sang hymns and action songs (irretrievably off key, for sure).
I got teary during archery at 8 years old where I was the only girl and the only one younger than 10 and felt like the only one who just didn’t get it.
I temporarily regretted signing up for rock-climbing and paintball then later been thrilled both to rappel and see my yellow paint splattered on an intimidating 12-year old boy.
I played many variations of Steal the Bacon, Canadian Beaver, and Kickball on the ball field.
I enviously watched other kids ring the bell while not quite working up the will or the guts to compete for my own turn.
I learned I am terrible at Staff Hunt, at least as a hunter.
I clicked through disposable cameras and SIM cards capturing memories.
As I grew up around camp and moved through the decades, my experience grew up too.
I was given opportunities to watch and listen and learn, then eventually to lead.
I did front dives and back dives and synchro routines around the dock where I would later be a lifeguard.
I learned to J-stroke a canoe in the bay I would eventually swim across in the early mornings (with Adam’s go-ahead of course).
I played broomball on the ice where I would one day dive down to anchor the water trampoline to its cement block.
I hiked what felt like forever to Sundown Point with little 9-year-old legs, only to realize as a teenager that it’s not actually all that far?
I have heeded and called directions from the megaphone.
I saw friends injured in games, then dealt with wounds and mishaps years later as the nurse.
Over the years, I have had friends ask why I am still involved with camp ministry. Why go back in your twenties? And your thirties? Why still visit when you go home to see your family? Sometimes this has the underlying tone of: Haven’t you grown out of it yet?
The lasting legacy of my connection with Camp of the Woods lies in its impact on my spiritual life. It is the first place I remember hearing that Jesus lives outside of old Bible stories.
I learned that his narrative could change mine.
I saw this modelled just as I heard it told.
I learned what it means to pray.
I emailed with older summer staffers when I had spiritual questions in high school.
Staff became steadfast friends and mentors through my young adult years.
I have seen staff disagree and muddle through before finding resolution.
I have witnessed tough conversations and hard “no”s.
I have seen patience wear thin and conflict boil over.
I have seen competing worldviews as I worked alongside people who see things just a little (or a lot) differently than I do.
And particularly in these recent years, I have watched the staff at Camp earnestly and prayerfully navigate hard things. It has been a privilege to glimpse people working through how to best respect and contribute to the surrounding communities.
How to keep providing a safe “bubble” and haven for youth while not insulating from the world.
How to offer a place to get away but remain engaged both up and down the Sioux highway.
How to build an environment for summer staff to grow in ways that translate into everyday lives and real-life needs.
How to keep helpful camp traditions while actively making space to rightly honour new ways of life.
I will not pretend that Camp is a perfect place with perfect systems run by perfect people.
But I will forever be grateful for it.
