“But if you search there, you will find the LORD your God, if only you seek with all your heart and soul” (Deuteronomy 4:29)

For the past two weeks, I have been sharing my reflections with us about my experiences at Camp Ramah in the Poconos. This week, having just settled in back at home, I want to look back at my time there and recount a few of the hidden wonders of my time spent at camp.

First, though, a note about the verse from Parashat VaEtḥanan above. This verse is also part of the special Torah reading for Tisha b’Av. An interesting fact of the Jewish calendar - the 9th of Av always falls during the week of Parashat VaEtḥanan. Each year, we read this passage as part of our Tisha b’Av observance and as part of our yearly cycle of Torah study, both within the span of a few days. In its context in Parashat VaEtḥanan, this verse is part of Moshe’s greater exhortation to the people to follow God’s laws, a reminder that if they stray, they will be punished, but that a return to following God’s ways will rekindle their relationship with God. As part of the Tisha b’Av liturgy, it serves as a promise that God’s presence abides, even in our darkest times, if only we have the fortitude to seek it out. 

I was not alone in coming to camp this summer in a pretty dark place. One of the unique features of Camp Ramah is the Mishlaḥat program, which brings dozens of young Israelis to work at camp as counselors and in all of the programmatic areas of the institution. For some of our Mishlaḥat members, coming to Ramah for the summer is not just something to do after serving in the army, a stopover on the way to time spent traveling around the world before entering university or the workforce. A significant number of our Mishlaḥat come back to camp year after year, making it their home for the summer. They’re not simply visitors to the camp community - they’re deeply valued members of the camp family. 

And this summer was different. “Bring Them Home” banners hung on the deck of the Sifriya (library) and on a number of bunks. Posters with hostages’ names and faces were in constant rotation in the staff lounge. I had colleagues who came to Lakewood, PA almost straight from months spent in milu’im, reserve service, colleagues whose children are serving in the army, whose family members are still held in captivity, colleagues who were devastated by their government’s actions and both needed a break from the constant news cycle and couldn’t seem to take one. The weight of the past 10 months hung heavily on all of us. 

The magic of camp was going to be more difficult to access this year, but it was still there. We just had to attune ourselves to seeing and feeling it. So despite all the darkness, I want to share a few magical camp moments from this summer, moments that helped me come out of the darkness. 

• The time warp of camp is simply astounding. Relationships and conversations that would take months or years to develop in the real world form, with real depth, over the course of weeks. And the months between camp season and camp season telescope into one another. My first day at camp, I learned that a friend I’ve known for 20+ years would be my neighbor. Sitting on our adjoining porches, he said to me, “So, to pick up on our conversation from before…” and we immediately jumped into talking about something we had been discussing at the end of last summer, as if no time at all had passed. 

• Gavi came home to me one day, proud to show me his work from Omanut (Art). They had learned about Pablo Picasso, and he unveiled his drawing, which was a portrait of Picasso in the style of Picasso. It was immediately recognizable, and hung in our cabin the rest of our time there. 

• Each Shabbat afternoon, Shmuel came to visit, bringing what seemed like at least 20 friends with him. Somehow, my tiny porch fit them all, and the snacks and seltzer were enough to keep them fed. What a delight it was to see my child with his bunkmates and friends, to get to know the other kids a little better, and to see how happy they all were. 

• Even some of the more difficult moments had their magic. On August 5, we marked the 5th birthday of Ariel Bibas, one of the youngest hostages, who continues to be held in captivity. There were candles and cake and we sang and cried. Through it all, though, we felt a sense of togetherness and shared destiny. 

On one of the nights when I was assigned shmirah, sitting by a bunk making sure all was quiet so that the counselors could get some time off, I walked back to my cabin at midnight after finishing my shift. It had rained much of the day, and I wanted to avoid the mud as much as possible on my way home. I found myself walking a slightly different route, taking me through a tree-lined path that was hung with lights. The beauty of it surprised me; it was something I had never noticed before. This was the magic of time spent at camp - moments of connecting and reconnecting with each other, finding our way together through the darkness.

Shabbat shalom.

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