Update...

So, it's been a while since i've last blogged... I started blogging before my trip to Tanzania and Switzerland. When i got home, i think i felt as though i was back to every day normal life, where nobody would care about what i was doing, or would they be interested in hearing about my thoughts anymore... after all, life back in Canada is just normal - not interesting.

I have come to the realization that I was wrong. Life back in Canada is very interesting, and who says anything is normal now a days. Below you will find a few reasons why i think my life is pretty interesting, and perhaps some of my thoughts over the last little while.

1) I work for the Tim Horton Children's Foundation. It is an organization dedicated to allowing kids to have the ultimate camp experience, in a place where they are accepted, cared for, and can have fun while being a kid. Over the past 3 months i have been privileged to meet 896 children from all over Canada, who each have a different story. Now, I can not tell you the stories of ever camper i met, but there are a few i will never forget. two in particular explain exactly why i love my job, and exactly why i hate my job.

WHY I LOVE MY JOB
Xavior, a camper from Ohio during session 1, was one of the coolest kids i met thus far in my THCF experience. One of the reasons i think i enjoyed him so much was the fact that he reminded me so much of my brother John. he was pretty short for his age, he talked of biographies and documentaries he watched at home, and the hard core metal music that he loved. on top of that, he had the longest, blondest hair ever! it was fantastic! other than being a pretty interesting kid, he said something to me once, that helped me remember why i returned to camp this summer. We were up at the frog pond, trying to catch frogs. it was a pretty cloudy day, raining on and off, so there weren't many frogs hanging around the edges. the group managed to catch a few, but strangely enough, the 9 and 10 year old boys didn't want to touch them and get dirty. Xavior decided that he'd give it a shot, because he has never had the opportunity to touch a frog before. He was all set, and about to dig his hands into the bucket of freshly caught frogs, when i stopped him and offered to roll up the sleeves of his sweater (the same sweater he had been wearing all week). as i was rolling them up, he looked at at me, with his blond hair his in face, and his round, hippie sun glasses covering his eyes, he said "motor, are you a mother?", i looked at him a little funny and said " um, no why?" and he replied with "well because you are really good with kids, and would make a great mother." i couldn't help but smile at him and say thanks. i'm not ready to be a mother, but i am totally ok with being here and hanging out with these really cool kids at camp. kids, like Xavior, are the exact reason why i love my job.

WHY I HATE MY JOB
Megan, a camper from New Brunswick during session 2 (or maybe 3), was the camper i think i spent the most time with all summer. She spoke less english than i did french, but was determined to hang out and laugh with me as we tried to communicate. he had so much energy, and just laughed all the time. she was a pleasure to be around, and was willing to take part in any activity. now, im not going to go into much detail for this story, mostly because it is explaining why i hate my job (but love it at the same time). After our final banquet, which is a special dinner on the last night of camp, which includes a slideshow of pictures from the 9 days that had just past, the cabins had all returned to their tables for snack before heading off to bed. as the groups were finishing up Sydney, Megans counsellor, approached me and asked if i was busy, because Megan wanted to say goodbye. of course i said sure! so she brought her over to me, and Megan was crying so hard she could hardly breathe. we sat on the stairs for a few minutes before i attempted to ask her what was wrong (in french). she didn't say anything for a few minutes, so we just sat, with her head on my legs, and she cried. eventually she began to speak, but with me not really understanding a while lot of french, and with her being upset, it was really hard for me to get what she was saying. i figured it was something not so good, so i knew i should be getting every word that she said to me, but i just couldnt understand. a friend of mine walked by, who happened to be bilingual, so i asked her to translate for me. she sat with us too, but as she was listening to Megan talk, she stopped translating, and just talked with her. i decided that, by seeing the look on my friends face, i should leave. later, my friend told me what she was saying, and she needed report what was said. Megan didn't want to leave camp, where she was comfortable, loved and was able to have fun, because she didn't want to go home where she was scared, and unwanted. That is why i hate my job.



2) reason 2, coming soon...