Homesick at Chi Rho Camp
I came with the other kids from church,
one sunny Sunday afternoon,
to spend one week at Chi Rho Camp.
We were all separated into teams.
I was twelve, and mingling with strangers
was hard for me, but I was still hopeful.
In my little group we talked about
Christian values, only I was so shy
my heart was in my throat, so when
I tried to speak, I forgot what I intended
to say and everybody
I was so embarrassed! I felt like
I couldn’t face any of them again.
I cried, and told one counselor,
I was homesick and wanted to go home,
and besides, the weather had turned cold
and I really needed my coat.
She somehow sent word to my parents.
They didn’t have a phone, but impossibly,
my dad appeared with my winter coat.
We went out and sat on a bench,
right out by the water of Crystal Lake,
his arm around my shoulders,
and waves slapping at our feet.
The sky was gray, and the wind was
cold, but the rain held off.
In the clear golden water, waves
rocked flat round stones on the bottom,
as big as the span of my hand.
Daddy asked me what made me
feel homesick, and then asked me
what I hoped coming here would be like?
He gently suggested that if I left, it could
never turn out the way I wanted,
and the chance could be gone forever.
I felt better, and decided to stay.
My dad changed everything that day.
© by Ruth Zachary