By Lori Zlotoff

In this week’s Torah Portion, Eikev, we are told that the Israelites will soon enter a land filled with the seven species, or the sacred fruits and grains found in the land of Israel, as well as a land rich in minerals and clean water sources.  You might imagine that the Israelites are told to respect the land and to adhere to high standards of environmental sustainability in order to continue to reap the benefits of this bountiful land.  But instead, we are told that the future bounty of the land would be based on the collective remembering of God’s continued goodness to the Israelite nation.  In other words, in order for the Jews to continue to receive the fruits of the earth, they are told to never forget Adonai, our God.

Each summer when we read about the Israelite’s journey to the promised land, I think about our collective journey to camp.   I imagine the cars leaving their homes in New Jersey, Delaware, Virginia, snaking their way through Pennsylvania, arriving on Smith Road and making their way into camp.  I imagine the shopping, packing and prepping that we all had to do to get us ready to live in this place.  I think about the preparation camp made for our arrival – cutting the grass, cleaning the bunks, hanging the basketball nets, building the tents, inflating the lake toys.  I think about the anticipation felt on the days and weeks leading up to opening day, wondering what camp would be like.  I think about what the Israelites must have been thinking as they waited 40 years to finally enter the promised land.  What if it wasn’t what they expected?  What if it disappointed them in some way?  What if it didn’t feel like home?  I imagine that our campers and staff also had similar thoughts and concerns leading up to this summer.  We didn’t wander in the desert for 40 years, but the last 22 months have been a long, long road.  We have imagined and reimagined and wondered and questioned what this summer would be like – once we knew that this summer was happening at all.  I have always been one for great expectations.  Ever since I was young, I would put enormous energy into imagining what big events would be and feel like, and then inevitably be disappointed when they didn’t turn out into what I had expected.  I realized that I was stealing my own happiness by imagining my way out of what was actually happening in front of me.  The disappointment of the cancelling of camp in 2020 was felt intensely by us all.

I, along with the rest of us, had to re-orient my expectations of the summer.  We had to do that a lot last year – change our expectations of our school years, milestone events, holidays and more.  It was a lot of adjusting.  But what that taught me was a lesson I wished I had learned a long time ago – that when we drop the expectations, we make space to be grateful for what we have, and we can enjoy what is, rather than what we think it should be.   As a result, I entered this summer filled with gratitude and little expectations about what would be.  I have been present each day, taking in the moments with awe and wonder and the feeling that being here is a blessing.  This translated to the celebration of my birthday, which was last Shabbat.  I had practically forgotten that my birthday was coming up as we were busily getting ready for 2nd session.  I didn’t know what day of the week it was, or spend any time thinking about how I would spend the day.  As a result, I had a day filled with joy and excitement and gratitude.  It took me 44 years to realize that it is the journey and not the destination that matters most, and that being present throughout the day and night was the best gift I could give myself.

This week’s middot is Nitzachon, or pushing through a challenge.  I think it’s safe to say we have all earned our Nitzachon bracelets after getting through this last year and a half.  We pushed through our personal and global challenges to get to this place, this space, this Shabbat together on the hill.  And what sustains us at Harlam are not the blades of grass, basketball nets, and bunk beds – it is our collective remembering of the 63 years that preceded us – the legacy that came before, and gives so much power to this place – and the knowing that God is in this place because we all breathe life into making this place our home.  Just as the Israelites needed to remember God in order to sustain their connection to the Land of Milk and Honey, we Harlamites need to remember that it is God and our Judaism and each other that connects us to this place and nurture our roots in Kunkletown each summer, and throughout our lives.

Lori Zlotoff has served on the Camper Care team since 2012, and has been the Inclusion Coordinator since 2015.  She is from Port Washington, NY and loves spending her summers at Harlam with her 2 daughters.