by Aashia Bade
My camp reunion was truly awesome. It meant so much to me to be with
the kids again and to be able to see my friends/co-workers. Maybe, this
little story will help you understand how much it meant to me . . . .
My flight was a little delayed Sunday evening, so I had to wait at Logan
Airport for a while. When my plane finally boarded, I was excited because
I thought I would finally be able to sit and have some peace and maybe
catch a few winks (not too many of those during the reunion weekend!).
Of course, fate would have it that the people in my row were an adorable
young married couple . . . with their equally adorable cranky, whiny,
loud, crying two-year-old girl. Hah!
Soooo, sleeping was out of the question. I tried to "rest my eyes,"
but I think the little girl was watching me or something, because every
time I was even close to relaxing, she would start screaming . . . sigh.
Well, I eventually gave up on the sleep idea, and I started playing with
the green bead on my bracelet from camp. It was sliding around on the
string, so I decided to untie it so that I could secure the bead on either
side so it wouldn’t slip around. Buttery fingers that I have, the
bead slipped right from my hands and rolled into airplane seat oblivion.
I was so upset. I started wriggling around, looking under the seat in
front of me, checking my own lap, looking in the bag of the guy behind
me . . . finally, I was on my hands and knees on the floor of this plane,
searching frantically for my precious memory bead. I had intended on keeping
it forever to remind me of my amazing summer with my kids.
The adorable couple next to me and their equally adorable daughter looked
disconcerted at my ungraceful maneuvering around their seats. The wife
asked me what I was looking for, and when I said, oh this green bead I
lost, she immediately passed her daughter to her husband and started looking
too. The husband’s sister was sitting a few seats ahead of us, so
he passed the baby to her so that he could help as well. They moved their
bags and eventually were on their hands and knees, too.
A stewardess came by and asked us what we were looking for, and she
immediately disappeared and reappeared with a flashlight. Without another
thought, she was on the floor (wearing her lovely stewardess skirt mind
you) helping us look. The man across the aisle from me handed me his flashlight
with a smile. A few minutes later, the stewardess stood up victoriously
and exclaimed "Found it!" No joke, people in my section cheered
and clapped! The stewardess handed the bead back to me. I had to restrain
myself from hugging her. I sat down, still not the least bit embarrassed
(which is extremely abnormal for me; I would rather not call attention
to myself from random strangers, furthermore even letting them help me
. . .).
The couple next to me smiled and asked about the bead. Before I could
answer, a woman the row behind me started talking to me. She said that
when I had first said "green bead" and had that intensely
upset look on my face, she had surely assumed that it was a jade or emerald
that I had lost. She went on to say that when she caught sight of the
small plastic, non-precious stone that I was so grateful to have back,
she absolutely knew that some special boy must have given me the bead.
I smiled at her and told her that it was a bead from my kids. I explained
that I had worked with some amazing kids this summer, and I was just returning
from a reunion with them. As a memento, I had this bead to remind me of
everything I had learned and experienced. More than anything, it was a
bead that connected me to my awesome campers. This lady didn’t seem
to understand.
However, the young couple had been listening intently. I saw a look
of admiration on their faces. We talked about my camp experience and my
professional goals to work with kids. As young parents, I could see they
valued my passion and dedication to youth. I could tell they, like me,
saw the bead that I had lost and regained as more than just a bead.
Originally published in the 2005 September/October
issue of Camping Magazine. |
