By Cori Miller

I don’t like calling people by their nicknames or their last names.  I’m not sure why, but it’s just a bit hard for me.  Sometimes I do it anyway, but the words don’t usually roll easily off my tongue.  

Last week, we heard from the brilliant Sam. Most of you might not know who I’m talking about, because he is known here as “Skelly.”  Sam talked a little about small changes and when he did, he extended a compliment to Lyndsay Nelson, so I decided right there in that moment that I would pay it forward and extend my gratitude to Sam the next week and talk about small changes as well. 

What I took from what Skelly shared, was that he challenged the very idea of small changes, that small changes were as important and just as valued as big changes. And that a multitude of small changes could be quite powerful. So last Saturday in the Beit, I decided I would talk about small changes as well, but last week turned to yesterday, and yesterday turned to today, and so many small things turned to big things and before I knew it, it was an hour ago, and I hadn’t written my D’var for this week.  I had needed to make a small change this year and plan in advance a time to write, and it was a small change that I just couldn’t execute.  

So what would I do? I panicked.  And then I remembered that this week’s Torah portion, Massei, means journeys. Aha, just what I needed: a Torah portion that I had spoken about before! Luckily, I found what I had already written, and started reading it.  It was six years old; certainly I could recycle it and use it again.  And then I perused it more. I spoke about journeys. About how often when we think of a journey, we think of a trip, of movement from one place to another; this is, in fact, the definition. But I talked about the personal journeys we all take at camp.

As I continued reading, I referenced many journeys I saw campers taking, and one caught my eye.  I said six years ago, “Maybe you were the camper whose summer could have been ruined by a broken ankle at the beginning of camp, but you journeyed to a place where you rolled with it and smiled through it all.” Six years ago.  That person now is a CIT, maybe your CIT.  I remember being amazed by him six years ago and he is still fantastic. 

I realized that my journey at camp, and what makes it exciting, is caring so deeply about the people here. You don’t need to travel far to be awed by people.  They’re right here.  I’ve been on quite a journey here— this is my tenth summer— but each one stays with me because of the people and my recollections of them. I remember exactly how that CIT looked sitting in the mirpa’ah (health center), like it was yesterday and I love watching him be exceptional now. In the same way,. I loved talking with a Galil camper this year who can prepare a perfect shrimp scampi (sorry for the non Kosher reference), or an Arava camper who told me yesterday that  if I needed help finding the words for my d’var I could always go to him for advice. 

I love that I got to be a part of a conversations this afternoon with two co-counselors who not only cared so much about the campers in their bunks, but fully appreciated and supported each other to do their jobs well (thank goodness I waited until the last moment to write this or I wouldn’t have been able to include that!). All of these small things, cause small changes in the way I feel about this place, they are a part of my journey and I hope that for all of you, staff and campers, that you recognize and appreciate that all of the small things you experience or do are a part of your journey and history with camp.  

Ralph Waldo Emerson said “Life is a Journey, not a destination.” (Full disclosure…I also said this 6 years ago!)  I think he’s right. We aren’t meant to rush through life, it’s about savoring every moment of each day and learning lessons along the way.  It’s about hardships and challenges that we are sometimes faced with and how we work through them.  Camp is a great place for that.  We hope for successes, but respect that we all make mistakes and can be forgiven.  Nobody’s perfect right; and that is okay here.

So while all of us will be moving from here (some in a week and some longer), and start the journey home, I hope that more than seeing the journey as a move from one place to another, that you recognize that there are so many lessons to be learned here, whether you’re doing the teaching or recognizing the learning, and so many opportunities to connect with others, and I hope that what you have experienced here stays with you for a long time, like it has for me. Harlam is a special place, but it’s special because of the people here.  I hope for all of you that this is a meaningful, fun and impactful stop on your journey and I wish you a Shabbat Shalom.

Cori Miller serves on the Professional Staff as Camper Care Supervisor. She is the parent of two former campers, one of whom is now a first-year staff member. This is her tenth summer at camp.