Updated: Dec. 18, 2015 | Originally Published: Feb. 8, 2012
When I attended summer camp, the counselors spoke of something they called camp magic. Days like Pirate Day, when we donned bandanas and eye patches, were a blast! We formed teams, but it was more about having fun than actual competition. I recall one particularly memorable raid, where some of the male counselors relocated all the dining hall tables and chairs outside to the flagpole, allowing us to enjoy breakfast in the fresh air and sunlight. There were barbecues, Fourth of July fireworks, spontaneous dance-offs on the girls’ side, and fun evening activities like ice cream socials. I even remember the thrill of sailing solo for the first time and finally getting up on water skis. All these moments blended together to create a tapestry of magic and unforgettable memories.
As campers, we were blissfully unaware that all these experiences were carefully crafted by the counselors and staff. Now, looking back, I recognize the dedication they put into creating that magic for us.
One of my favorite counselors was a lovely woman named Sara. She may not have been the most popular, but she had a unique charm. Every evening, rather than rushing off to socialize with other counselors, she would stay behind and read The Little Prince aloud to us. We would listen intently, captivated by the tale as the sounds of the lake lapped gently outside our tent. Each night, we drifted off to sleep with dreams of distant planets and whimsical adventures.
One summer morning, Sara surprised us by waking us up before the camp bell rang. She told us to dress quickly and bring our bathing suits. She whisked us seven giggling girls away in the camp van for breakfast at a local diner, followed by a beach day near the sparkling bay. She had packed delicious lunches, and we spent the day lounging in the sun, eating sandwiches, and sipping sodas. I still have photos from that day taken with a simple disposable camera—those sunburnt, happy faces captured in time. On the way back, we even stopped for peach milkshakes, which made the day even sweeter.
That day was enchanting, and I’ll always be grateful to Sara for creating such a vivid, joyful memory from my childhood. I often wish I could find her and express my gratitude for the magic she brought into my life and those of my friends.
At 16, I became a Junior Counselor, responsible for a group of younger girls. I had little guidance on how to embrace this new role, and honestly, I think I managed just okay. It was tough to transition because I still wanted to experience camp for myself. I was somewhat selfish, focusing on my fun rather than realizing that I was expected to create that same magic for the next generation of campers. Some of the counselors would joke when they felt overwhelmed, saying the magic was gone. But that was never the case! It was always there; we just needed to tap into it.
I truly grasped this concept when I became a parent. Now, I understand that we adults—parents, counselors, and grown-ups—are the true magic makers. Children only have one childhood, and it’s our responsibility to make it as enchanting as possible. Whether it’s whipping up chocolate chip pancakes on Sunday mornings, leaving surprise notes from the tooth fairy, or keeping the spirit of Santa Claus alive, it’s all about creating those special moments.
Take them stargazing in the backyard, exploring on bike rides, or watching fireworks through their delighted eyes. Read them a beloved book, surprise them with a trip to the zoo, or enjoy a cozy movie morning snuggled up in bed. Crafting memories and traditions is essential, as these will be the snapshots they hold onto as they grow older.
Sure, places like Disney World are magical, and I cherish the memories from my childhood visit. But I also hold dear the simpler moments: tending the garden with my mom, watching storms roll in with my siblings, or enjoying a baseball game with my dad. It’s about the time spent together and the effort we invest.
On chilly evenings when homework is done, we gather around the fireplace in our living room. Our older kids strum the guitar, and we all sing along, doing our best to harmonize. And if I’ve planned ahead, we might even whip up some s’mores.
Creating these magical moments takes work, effort, and planning. But as parents, we are the true architects of wonder. And we’ve got just this one chance to make it count.