Emotions Running High at Camp!

Not much of a lead is needed for this post. Enjoy!

Today we woke up to a group of over energetic kids who could barely keep their eyes open. It was my first time being there when we woke the kids up. Normally I would be in bible or helping out with crafts. It was a great experience, being able to hug and love these children the second they were ready to leave their home.

The lesson for the day was John the Baptist. The day had a tinge of sadness and excitement as we went through our last full day of camp. When we went on a hike, there were crying counselors and tired kids. There were group songs and flower picking. The guys hauled in firewood as the rest of us chowed down on the infamous Romanian watermelon (apa melon!!). We had to let the kids prepare for the talent show, and when it finally happened, it was epic. I've never had so much fun with this youth group than when we were jamming out to Uptown Funk on stage as all fifty of the Romanian children we had loved and nurtured all week long cheered us on enthusiastically. The rest of the acts included drawing, "gypsy dancing", a surprising amount of twerking, an amazing step dancing performance, singing, cups, comedy, and magic (Courtesy of Kevin). After that, we had a bonfire. So, when I first came down, I was terrified. The fire pillared up to the sky and embers rained down like glitter, sparkling dangerously and burning everything it touched. The fire towered high, about 3 Pastor Hilles' tall. The air within a ten foot radius was scorching hot and burned my lungs. And then it began to collapse. Needless to say, I was terrified. Luckily, everything worked out in the end and no one got hurt.


Then, it was our group meeting that really stuck in my mind. Maren cried five times, Kevin and Jill and Sophia all cried, all we all joked, laughed, and felt sadness together. We leave the children tomorrow, but I wouldn't change my time with them for any reward in the world. I truly hoped we helped them, no matter the home they go back to. I hope they forever remember the compassion we taught them, even when things get rough for them, which it will. I cry unshed tears as I think about the fifty children we loved, only to leave them behind, most likely for forever. Goodbye my children. You are loved.