Camp Little Willow

Chapter 8

     After all eyes have been dried and the stuffed animals are set on each bed to watch over the cabin, we take the girls outside to meet the boys. As a slightly larger, but still shockingly small, group we head over to the Art Tent sat in the middle of the pathway between the Great Mess Hall and the Counsellor Camp.

     I hear a few intakes of breath and a quiet 'whoa' as we enter. The Art Tent is essentially just that, a huge all-season white teepee, held up with Bamboo shoots. Someone has hung a stuffed panda from one of the shoots and it makes the kids giggle with excitement.

     There are lots of different sized circles cut out of the material, the holes covered with different coloured cellophane so that when the sun hits each colour it makes the inside glow gently. Right now, everything has a hint of green to it.

     Across the floor is a huge version of a waterproof table cover with pictures and names of different plants and trees. It sticks to our shoes slightly as we walk across it.

    Around each end of the tent is a log bench, the kind that has been made by hand and still has the bark on the underside. One bench holds paint, the second pens and pencils, and the third has stacks of paper. At each side of the doorway are handmade bookshelves, to match the benches, containing all the arts and craft bits you can imagine.

     Zoe and Zack gather us in the middle of the tent. For the children whose first year it is, they look around in bewildered excitement.

     "OK. We have a very big task, do you think you can handle it?" Zoe asks, putting her hands on her hips. I'd be surprised if she's not a teacher when we're older.

     "Yes!" The children shout back, some of them giggling.

     "Great! Zack and I are going to give you all your own wooden plaque, and you're going to paint your name in the middle, and then add some of your favourite things around it. When they're dry, we'll hang them above your beds, and you can take them home at the end of camp." Zoe beams as she picks up a plaque from the pile beside her, holding it up for us to see.

     In the middle, Zoe is written in pink glitter paint surrounded by different animals all delicately painted with immense detail. I wonder how long it took her to make.

     "This is my one, but I know yours are going to be so much better! Who thinks they might know what we need to wear before we paint?" Zoe asks, putting a finger to her chin like she's thinking about the answer.

     "Aprons!" Some of the children shout.

     "Oh, of course!" Zoe smiles, pointing to a small coat stand nestled between one of the bookshelves and a log bench. "We all need an apron, and to roll our sleeves up if they're long."

     The children rush to the stand and tug at the aprons, pulling them over their heads like their lives depend on it. Oh, to be young again.

     While Zoe directs the children to sit in a circle, Zack hands out the plaques. I make myself busy and grab paint pots from the bench. Each one has a coloured lid to match the paint inside just to make it easier for the kids. Tabitha and Aisling grab the rest of the paint pots and brushes while Jonah sets out pots of water. We lay everything out in the middle of the circle, the kids watching eagerly.

      The tent grows oddly quiet and calm as the children start on their name signs. I sit down between Kelsey and one of the sisters, the younger one I think, both are kneeling over their plaques and delicately painting their names.

     Daisy finishes hers first, but she does have one less letter than Kelsey. She rinses the neon green off her brush and dips it into the white pot.