The Nicest Thing Anyone Has Ever Done For Me

Sunday July 26th 2010, I was fifteen years old and I worked at the greatest place on earth: Camp Ernst. That summer I worked on E-team as a lifeguard and did other miscellaneous tasks that were asked of me. I was very low on the totem pole so I did what I was told — for the most part — and I loved every minute of it. That day, I got to camp well before the campers were supposed to arrive and was told to hammer some nails into the dining hall walls so we could hang the tin honor camper cups. On this particular day, I was very thankful to have such a mundane, mindless task. You see, that day also happened to be my mother’s birthday. And while most birthdays are happy occasions, my mom died when I was three, so I was just painfully reminded that I couldn’t spend her birthday with her.

That morning, before my brother drove me to camp, we stopped by the cemetery to visit her grave. We said a few words, both feeling slightly uncomfortable. He didn’t know what to say to me, I didn’t know what to say to him, we both felt a little strange talking to a headstone like it was person. We drove away from the cemetery in an awkward silence, he kept telling me stories about her, how terrible she was with directions and the time she got so lost driving him to a soccer game and how he fell asleep but she woke him up in line at a McDonald’s drive thru in hopes to make it up to him. I loved hearing these stories because I didn’t have many of my own, just a faint, perhaps contrived memory of her getting me a juice box. I smiled and listened along but a dark cloud was forming over my head. I did what I could to push a lot of my sadness away, knowing that most people did not care to talk about someone’s dead mother.

So there I was, up on a ladder, hammering nails into a wall, letting my body do the work so my mind could lay dormant for just a minute. I needed to grab more nails so I picked up the box, grabbed a handful and threw the box back on the table. Just like that, the table collapsed with a huge bang. It was the type of loud noise that makes everyone pause for a second, check their limbs, and look around frantically. That is not what I did, instead I started sobbing. The noise shook me so much that I couldn’t hold back the cloud any longer, and I was basically wailing. My boss, and friend, Leah run into the dining hall as soon as she heard the noise and saw me sobbing. She immediately put her arms around me and said,

“I know you’re not just crying about a table, what’s wrong?”

And it took everything in me to push the words about of my mouth, I was still so shaken that I didn’t have it in my to even try to push the words back down,

“It’s my mom’s birthday.”

Leah had already known that my mom died so she wrapped me up in her arms tighter and let me cry for a bit. She took me to the corner of the dining hall and we sat down and talked for a while. She asked me questions about my mom, my family, how I felt, what I was thinking. I usually don’t feel that comfortable talking so much about myself for so long but she made it so easy for me, she listened so intently. We talked about her family and her life. For one of the first times I can remember, it didn’t feel like I was putting on a show, it felt like I was just explaining myself to someone. There was a flicker in Leah’s eyes and she turned to me and asked me,

“How would you feel if we had a birthday party for your mom?”

The question was almost as jarring as the table collapsing but in a much better way. Most other days if she had asked me that question, I would have said no or told her that she didn’t have to do that. But that day I told her the truth,

“I would really love that.”

She went on to introduce this life-changing concept to me, instead of being sad on my mom’s birthday, we could celebrate her life and the products of her life, my dad and my brothers and sisters, and me.

Truthfully, I have no clue what I did that rest of the day, but that night all the girls e-teamers, my friends, were in our cabin putzing around, and Leah and Paige, my other boss, came in told us to meet them on the road outside, a popular hangout spot, in 10 minutes. I had no idea what was about to happen other than that it was about me and I was terrified. We all moseyed out into the road and there were Leah and Paige with a box of candles. Paige handed the candles out while Leah explained what was about to happen,

“So today is Mary’s mom’s birthday, and I don’t know if a lot of you know this but Mary’s mom passed away when she was very young. Mary and I talked for a while today and we decided that a better way to spend the day than being understandably sad, was to celebrate her mom’s life and the beautiful things it produced like Mary and her family. So Paige and I were thinking that we could all go around the circle and say happy birthday to Mary’s mom and light the candle, and when we’re all done we’ll sing happy birthday, and blow the candles out.”

I was just sitting there, absolutely stunned, and still so nervous, and then it begun. One by one, each girl sat there and not only said happy birthday to my mom, but they each had something they wanted to tell me, how great they thought I was, how proud my mom would be of me, how strong they thought I was being. It’s not so much what they said that meant so much, but that they were willing to say it. They looked me dead in my eyes, that were in constant production of tears and they helped, in any way they could. When they were all done, I thanked each of them for the words and their friendships in general and the wonderful place that brought all of these thoughtful people together. I looked up and Paige and Leah and I was in awe that two people could do so much for me. That day and all the other days I spent with them for two summers, they taught me so much about what it actually means to be a camp counselor and the power you have to change kids lives. I’m twenty two years old and I still think about that day and am warmed by the love that poured out of everyone.

After we sang and blew out the candles, we all lied down and stargazed, another common activity at camp. This next part may sound like embellishing but it is the honest truth, that night, I saw my very first shooting star. I had no emotional energy to be incredulous, so I just smiled and let it sink it. My friend Theresa said something that struck me the other day, and I think it fits well here,

“Camp has some kind of magic….Maybe it’s just the people though.”