Chances and Changes: My Journey with Molly

At the lake, Molly told me that I should speak my mind. So I take a deep breath and tell them that I’ve never spent the night away from home except for sleepovers at Bea’s house. I say that I’m sorry to be a baby. Molly says that everyone gets homesick at some point. It happens to both Linda and Molly sometimes. They’re the official Camp Gowonagin Homesickness Team. Linda says that they’re the champions of homesickness. At first, they didn’t admit it to anyone, not even each other. But after they did admit it, they cried and cried.

I ask them what they do when they get homesick, and Molly says they think of the soldiers fighting in the war and how brave they have to be when they’re in danger and so far away from home. I want to go home, too! Do I have the nerve to say so straight out, even though it will disappoint Molly and Linda? Thanks to Molly, I do.

I tell them that I think I want to go home. Molly says that’s okay. If I really want to, then I can. But maybe after breakfast tomorrow. Linda says the breakfast is good here. It’s usually pancakes with a lot of maple syrup. Maple syrup isn’t rationed, so we can really pour it on.

And Molly says that maybe I can stay for Morning Swim. We can keep going with her swimming lessons. They joke around a bit and now they’ve got me giggling. I wipe the tears off my cheeks. I ask them if that’s how they talked to each other out of homesickness last summer… by telling horrible puns. Linda says no and I see her exchange a look with Molly, who nods as if in answer to a silent question. Linda says that their counselors showed them something so wonderful it made them forget about being homesick. It made them want to stay at camp. I ask what it is. Molly silently swings down off her bunk and says that they’ll show me.

Moving as quietly as possible, we slip our sockless feet into our shoes and tiptoe out of the tent. I’m shivery in my Lost and Found pajamas because of the excitement. Molly and Linda lead me up a hill behind the Dining Hall on a path led by moonlight. The land flattens a bit, and I see fields that touch the horizon. Molly shushes us and we stand on the lowest rung of the split-rail fence that borders the field. Linda says we just wait.

I see graceful, drifting shadows cast by the moonlight first. Linda says they’re horses. Of course I’ve seen horses in pastures on Bea’s farm. But these horses look magical, running across the field, their coats made shiny by the moon. We gaze at the horses for several silent minutes. Then I see something that makes me catch my breath. There, next to its mother, is a foal a few weeks older than Aurora’s foal. The foal tracks across the field and casts its moon shadow on the grass. Moon Shadow. Suddenly, I miss Bea so much it hurts.

Linda murmurs that she loves horses, even though she doesn’t know how to ride. She says that last summer was her first time really seeing a horse before. It was so exciting when the counselors brought them here. Molly says that bringing homesick campers here is a secret Camp Gowonagin tradition. Now I’m a part of that tradition, too.

Thinking about the Camp Gowonagin traditions make me think of Bea and our tradition of swimming everyday during the summer.

Molly continues and says that thanks to me, she might even be brave enough for Dad’s tradition of jumping out of the boat on the fishing trip. Linda asks if the tradition of seeing the horses has helped me decide to stay at camp. I’m torn. Seeing the horses has made me yearn to be with Bea and Moon Shadow. But I sure do like being here with Molly and Linda, too.