Ch 22

A camp story

"God is great, God is good, and we thank him for our food," everyone in the dining hall sings together and snaps to the beat. "Gonna thank him in the morning, noon, and night. Gonna thank our God cause he's outta sight. Gonna thank, gonna thank, gonna thank our God tonight. Toot-toot-toot amen. Toot-toot-toot- Amen," everyone finishes and listens for the meal host.

"Ok, Hopper number one you can head on in the in door and pick up the red tray," we hear over the loudspeaker. Chrissy gets up from the table and goes to get the food for the rest of Catawba cabin. While we wait for the food Rachel says, "Take some and pass it on girls," and she hands the bottle of Germ-X to the girl on her right. The CILTs, my campers, are eating with their adopt-a-cabins tonight so I've joined Rachel's table. I love eating with eight-year-olds. If I was an anthropologist I would spend my time researching the eating habits of small children.

Kate comes back from the salad bar with her plate of food. Instead of the traditional lettuce and vegetable salad she has carefully selected a pile of goldfish, a stack of croutons, and a small mountain of shredded cheese with ranch dressing poured on top of it all. I give Rachel a look across the table to say, "Seriously? She's going to eat that?" and Rachel just shrugs and smiles, "Welcome to Catawba."

Chrissy is back from the kitchen now and her little eight-year-old arms are wrapped around the tray, using all of her strength to not drop the heavy platter. She takes it to Rachel who expertly starts unpacking, unwrapping, inserting serving spoons into each container and then passing them to the right. It's burrito night. We pass fajita shells, taco meat, shredded cheese, refried beans, Mexican rice, shredded lettuce, diced tomatoes, chopped onions, salsa, and sour cream. The girls' eyes are bigger than their stomachs and their mounds of food keep growing.

I wrap mine up Chipotle style and take a neat bite as I watch all of these girls experiment with how to fold their shell and keep all of the ingredients inside. Their little hands have salsa dripping down them all the way to their elbows. They slowly take bites, trying to get their whole mouth around the food spilling out. Sauce from the taco meet stains the sides of their mouth and they don't take the time to wipe it off. One curly haired girl gives up and lets the burrito fall apart on her plate. She then proceeds to tear off chunks of the tortilla and mashes together clumps of the food before putting it in her mouth.

We handle two cups of spilled milk and one tidal wave from the water jug. The girls tell us, "Sorry," and then just keep on eating. This is normal. There are wet napkins and washrags serving as miniature retention walls so the rest of the table will stay dry. The cheese and lettuce continue to be emptied and there is a parade of girls going to refill them all dinner long.

I look across the table at Mary. She has scooted back from the table and has her feet up on the seat of the chair. A butter packet in hand, she is using her pointer finger to scoop up butter and then lick it off before she goes back for more. I start laughing as I watch her repeat the motion over and over again, totally unaware she is being watched.

Soon its time to clean up and Rachel and I give each girl a job, "You take back the salt and pepper, you stack the red cups, you get all the forks, you take back the red tray," as we simultaneously scrape the food waste from everyone's plate and wipe off the table. The girls love to help but without direction they don't know what to do. We finish just in time for the end of the meal announcements.

When we eat meals together at camp we purposely sit at a giant round table so everyone can see everyone else. The food is served family style and we take turns going to re-fill the bowls. Clean up is a shared responsibility. In a world where we normally eat on the run and order from drive-thru windows, this kind of communal dining seems extra important, despite the food choices and eating habits of some campers. I love that three times a day we all sit around a table together and share not just a meal but conversation. Sometimes we yell cheers from our chairs, or we dress up for a special theme, and maybe we all dance to Taylor Swift or do the cha-cha slide together. When we think about the schedule of our day, it is easy to forget that eating a meal together can be one of the most important parts.