I have often thought of writing to my children on occasion so that one day they can look back on certain times in their lives and see how I felt as it was happening to them. Of course, I never did it though. Then when my daughter Paris was being Bat Mitzvahed I wrote the speech I said to her and decided I really needed to do it more than every 13 years for each of them. So here goes, and since I just did it for Paris through my speech to her, I’m going to start now with Ben. Ben and I share a different relationship than the ones I share with his sisters. We don’t relate on a “sports” level like he does with Jack. He doesn’t go or enjoy shopping with me. He is actually, except for his looks, the anti me. He is a goofball, he is funny, he is sarcastic, he has a little bit of the devil in him. He is also very sensitive and doesn’t like to try new things until he is sure he can do it right. He does walk around with the fear of the unknown. Ok – so maybe we are a little bit alike in some respects! But 3 years ago – Ben did something very un Ben like. He asked to go to camp with his big “brother/cousin/friend” Max. And to top it all off, he asked to go for the whole summer! I had never been to sleep away camp and thought he was nuts! But nonetheless – we let him go. So at 8 years old I sent my baby boy off to camp in Maine and he has never once looked back. He loves Manitou. It is his second home; the place he looks forward to for 10 months of the year. He has friends there that have been with him the whole time as well. They are a different kind of family but definitely a family. Ben loves camp so much he has been known to miss his calling times to us, letters are very infrequent, and when we do get to speak to him he is always running to get back to whatever he is missing. The other night when I was speaking to him he didn’t sound right. I asked him what was wrong and his answer to me was that they were about to blow their entire summer lead of college league. I breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t unhappy. It was a camp thing. But as the days passed, the anxious feeling I had in the pit of my stomach seemed to linger. If anyone knows me – they know that when it comes to sports – i could care less about winning or losing. I always try to teach Ben and my girls that how you play the game is more important than the outcome. Yes, its certainly nicer to win, but thats not what its all about – and yes, for a 10 year old boy – that is also easier said than done. So why was he so upset about blowing the college league lead when this just isn’t what we teach him. And then I read one of the Manitou blogs and it hit me. It’s not really winning and losing. Its that they boys get so caught up in the spirit of camp that they literally become part of that spirit. This isn’t something he would ever get at home. in a world of very spoiled children where they, my son included, get most everything they want, this is not something that can be bottled or that I can buy or get for him. He can’t practice it. And I guess to truly understand this special gift that he gets at camp, you just have to be there and be a part of it. So we got passed college league and then moved on to color war. This year Ben was on maroon. He had been gray the previous two years. One year he won, one he lost. I never thought about the outcome so much before – but that silly phone call was still in the back of my head. I found myself saying, I hope maroon wins so he’s not let down twice. And I was mad at myself for thinking that way because I am the biggest proponent of it doesn’t matter who wins. But I think what was getting to me was that old saying – you are only as happy as your least happy child. And I know my son. He was going to put his heart and soul into this color war no matter what the outcome. Then I saw the pictures. And I saw Ben pulling as hard as he could pull on that tug-o-war rope. And I know his friends on gray were pulling just as hard and didn’t deserve to win or lose any more than he did. And I don’t think Ben is any different than a lot of the other boys. And I know that there can only be one winner. For Ben, tonight worked out in his favor. I hope he was a good sport and a good friend. But I also hope that the spirit that he has had with him and given to him by Manitou was all he wished for as he jumped in the lake wearing his Maroon proudly. I thank Camp Manitou, which is rooted 60 something years deep in tradition, for instilling this spirit and love of his camp family, and know Ben will continue this tradition for many years. Sometimes he will win. Sometimes he will lose. But if he carries this spirit inside of him, he will always come out on top. I’m sure the maroon and gray are already reunited and sleeping peacefully – all friendships still safe and intact – and all the boys treasuring their last few nights as friends – not as warriors or competitors. And if Ben didn’t win this year – he would still be my happy, sarcastic, funny son – no worse for wear. I am so happy to have him home on Saturday, but I feel a strange sadness as well. I feel bad that its over until next year. Time flies way to fast and the countdown will begin again as soon as he gets off the plane. It did not hit me in past years as it did this one. Maybe he is different – older – and I grow with him. But once again – Thank you Camp manitou for another great summer, great memories, great friendships, and for taking care of my son and giving him a gift that it is impossible for me to give him at home.