You’ve got mail!

Ok, seriously, who even writes letters anymore?

Campers at Ashreinu, that’s who.

Yes, you read that right. In today’s age of technology (banned from camp, of course) we unlucky campers are forced to bring those old fashioned things known as stamps, pens and envelopes to camp with us. And we need to write. Twice a week.

Ugh.

I used to try to simplify things by pre-addressing the envelopes before I left, so all I had to do was write a short note and stuff it in.

But this year I’m smarter.

In fact, I’m brilliant.

You see, during the time I was supposed to be studying for my math final some weeks ago, I got bored and decided to prewrite a bunch of letters to my parents.

See? I told you I’m brilliant. We can discuss the grade on my math final a different time. And anyway, I already know all the important numbers. Like exactly how many days of camp there are.

So I wrote this whole pile of letters, and then the first week of camp I just slipped the first one in an envelope, affixed a stamp, and read a comic book on my bed while all the other kids in my bunk were slaving away with their pens and pencils.

Here’s what the letter said:

Dear Mommy and Abba,

How are you? Camp is great. We have a really great bunk. I got a good bed. My counselors are nice. The food is bad as usual, but you don’t need to send me anything because there’s good canteen here. They are announcing a trip tomorrow. I can’t wait to hear where we will go.

I miss you!

Love,

Ellie

See? Generic but good.

The first glitch came during our phone call a few days later.

“Ma, guess what?” I said. “Shifra Stein is our counselor! I can’t believe it! It almost makes up for the fact that I got stuck with a bottom bunk right near the bathroom.”

“Wait, what?” asked my mother. “Shifra’s your counselor? But you didn’t write a thing about that in your letter, I’m so surprised. All you wrote is that your counselors are ‘good.’ And you also wrote that you got a good bed.”

“Um, yeah, um,” I said. “I wrote that in a rush. And also, I didn’t want you to worry about my bed.”

After we hung up, I made a mental note to keep our conversations even vaguer than my letters.

The following Sunday was visiting day.

“This is my bed, and this is my pillow,” I said helpfully as they entered my bunkhouse. “And this is what I won at Great Escape!” I held up a gigantean stuffed monkey.

“Wow, you went on such a major trip already?” asked my father.

“That’s interesting,” said Mommy, looking puzzled. “You didn’t mention a word. The only trip I heard about was the boating trip you mentioned in your last letter.”

“Er, um,” I said. “I wanted to keep this trip a surprise.”

The rest of the day passed all too quickly, as we spent time on camp grounds and then went on an exciting trip to Walmart, where I bought more things than I could possibly fit on my shelf.

When my parents drove me back to camp, they walked me to the gate.

“Ellie, Ellie!” called Dina, my bunkmate, frantically waving as though she hadn’t seen me in weeks instead of at breakfast that very morning. She ran over to where we stood. “Guess what? We’re going on a surprise boating trip tomorrow! I just found out from a secret source! They’re going to break it out tonight.”

“Another boating trip?” asked my mother, raising her eyebrows.

“Huh?” asked Dina. “This is our first time this summer. Ok, whatever, see you later. I don’t want to interrupt the tearful goodbye.” She ran off.

My mother looked thoughtful but didn’t say another word about it as we bade farewell and I hugged each of my parents fiercely.

That Thursday, I slipped another letter into an envelope and affixed a stamp. Then I pulled out a new comic book.

“All done writing?” asked Shifra.

“Yep,” I said. I held up my sealed envelope.

“Great,” said Shifra. “By the way, my mother told me she met your mother yesterday. You know, your mother had no idea you got the main part in the play! Good thing she found out from my mother because she said she hadn’t been planning to come in for it. I can’t believe you didn’t say anything!”

I smiled sheepishly and turned back to my comic. But I couldn’t concentrate.

I looked at the envelope in my hand. I hadn’t even bothered looking at the letter inside. I had no idea what it said. Definitely nothing about my main part in the play. I sure hadn’t known about that back in June!

And just like that, I tore up the envelope in my hand.

“Shifra,” I called. “I need a few more minutes to write, after all. I’ll meet you guys at second activity in a few minutes.”

Then I took out my pen and got to work.