COLLEGE ESSAY!

Getting ready for my math test, I take out a pencil, a sheet of paper and my calculator from my backpack. As I begin to do the quadratic formula, I notice that the “enter” key on my calculator is all sandy. And as I try to clean out the key, I can’t help but smile.
Two summers ago I received that backpack as a present from my friends at the camp that I worked at. I began working at the summer camp called Hillside two years ago and throughout the nine weeks of watching children, making new friends and hiking, the backpack gathered all of my memories that would have been otherwise forgotten.
As I tug on my shoulder straps I glance down at the yellow paint that is spattered on my straps and I remember. I remember helping a little girl named Shana paint her lion mask for her little sister. I remember the look on her face as I showed her how to paint in smooth even lines, starting on the outside, and then working her way into the center of the lion’s mask. As I unzip my backpack my hand brushes across the tie-dye ribbon I made during arts and crafts. I remember the two mile hike we went on. I remember the little kids asking a mile long list of questions; some so creative I couldn’t help but chuckle in response. I remember when we turned around to return back to the camp site, they hung onto the tie-dyed ribbon and we sang songs all the way back on the two mile hike. As I go into the side pockets to grab my water bottle I see little flowers and handmade bracelets. I remember all the friends I made during those nine weeks and the treasures we shared. When we weren’t watching children, we were lying in the grass making each other colorful bracelets – and even though those bracelets ended up lost or dirty, the people who made them for me are unforgettable. As I try to gather the flowers into a tiny bouquet, I remember the children who gave them to me. I remember the warm sun on my face and the comforting noise of the children’s giggles as they played tag and picked up the flowers. I know what each child did. Shana would sit by my side as I walked around to the different events, Julian was obsessed with four square and strived to be the ace every time, Justin and Johnny played tag until they could no longer stand, and Caitlin, Rose and Ryan played house, where I was occasionally the family pet, or mother.
Hillside summer camp is what I look forward to the day after school ends. What I look forward to most is the excitement of the children’s faces as they remember me from a year ago. I can’t wait for the loving hugs that are passed around as we get re-acquainted with long lost friends. But what I take with me at the end of the summer are the lessons that I’ve learned from the children. They’ve taught me patience. I had to learn not to rush Caitlin when her shoes came un-tied every five minutes and to stop and wait as she slowly looped the strings. I had to work to try and relate to Alex, who has Aspergers Syndrome, while he tried to keep up with the other kids; I’ve learned patience most of all with him. I had to slow down to soothe him and not get mad as he went through his daily tantrums over changes he didn’t understand. The children taught me awareness and to have a watchful eye on even the most subtle situations. Keeping track of fourteen children with only two counselors isn’t easy. I caught myself counting to fourteen more times a day than I took breathes. I never realized how energetic, but dependent six -year olds were, so I learned compassion and empathy. I became their mentor without even realizing it.
My backpack became a living scrapbook that held precious memories from the games played with the children and the close friendships that I still hold onto. If it wasn’t for the past three summers I wouldn’t have met the incredible people that I’m proud to call my best friends. Counselors at Hillside come from all over the world: England, Australia, Scotland, Ireland, China and Russia. My very best friends, Rachel and Liam, come from Manchester, England. I am proud to say that I have friends from all over the world. What I miss most about Hillside is after a great day at camp, the American counselors would show the “internationals” around. We exposed them to a culture that they couldn’t be able to experience on Google or in a textbook. But I loved to hear their stories. I loved when they talked about their hometowns and families, their education and what they do for fun. And I absolutely love their accents. By the end of the summer, I couldn’t help but sounding a little bit like at least one of them, as if I too were from a different country. What I think about most are the funny stories of our experiences throughout the days at Hillside. How we would all laugh, and by the end of the summer cry because we didn’t want those laughs to end. That’s the only downside to Hillside – the time there is finite. If I could spend three hundred and sixty five days covered in sand, running around with children and making friends from all over the world, I would do it in a heartbeat.
So as I refocus on my math test, I gather up all the sand and return it to my backpack, where it belongs.