All different kinds of people all around the world go to summer camp. Some say camp is magical. Others say it will be the time of your life, and others say it’s terrible, but B’nai B’rithPerlman Camp is my second home.

For two years I have been going to sleepaway camp. It is the most incredible experience. From the cozy and stilled campfires, to the ambitious and raving color wars, to the rowdy chants during meals, to the night everyone waits for; cabaret. Moreover, camp is more than a location. It’s a big old family, where everyone knows each other, and stays in touch over the school year, because we are best friends who don’t need to stand by each other to have beautiful friendships. That’s what I call camp. A camp that I can call mine, and that’s special.

This past summer, I was recovering from a broken elbow. It was very painful and restricting, but that’s another story… nevertheless, my recovery took a week off of camp for me. It made my heart burn knowing I was missing a week of cherished camp memories, thus, I was going to do whatever it took to get that gross, ugly, cast off so I could get back to those damp mornings where it seemed like it rained, but it never did.

I believe August 1st was the day I was cleared to rush over to camp. I legitimately marched into that cramped room over packed with random things and said to my lovely orthopedist, “You need to let me go to camp.” That’s all it really took, and when he cleared me I was dumbfounded and actually surprised! From there on, I packed in twenty-four hours, and within three days, I was back at camp. I am still very thankful for all Dr. Capo and my family, did to help me recover, and especially get the opportunity to go back to camp.

I made no mistake going to camp this past summer. It was ten times better than the first year! Although I was only able to go for a short period of time because of a lengthy recovery, I still got color war, I still went to cabaret, and on the last night, the last campfire, we cried a lot. Now, I can’t say we were crying out of happiness nor sadness, but the feeling of leaving our second home. The fact that when we arrived home to our families, they wouldn’t understand why we refused to take off those millions of friendship bracelets, or why drinking hot chocolate out of a styrofoam cup is so extremely important! But no one will until we arrive back home every summer to a camp I can proudly call mine. A second home.

Kayaks by the lake


Marley is a rising 7th grader and has spent 2 summers at camp. She cant wait to return for 2016!