For this week at least, she’s with “mini-camp” — 12 3-year-olds! (She’ll get moved to other ages through the summer.)
She spent yesterday having tea parties, packing up scribbled-on pictures to bring home to Mom, helping take the kids “visiting” around the camp, reading a story about a big potato that had a lot of friends, stopping one girl from painting the walls, corralling the curious campers who tried to sneak out the door, and running interference during lunch and snack time.
Already she’s smitten with each and every one of them — even the kid who steadfastly refused to clear his snack plate since Mom doesn’t make him do it at home.
She’s definitely in her element; working with kids seems what she is meant to do.
Hearing her stories from the day, I can’t help but flash back to when she was little. She worried a lot then about what she would be when she grew up. “How will I find my talent?” she used to ask. What a joy to see her discovering it.
Her most lasting image from the first day of camp? The little boy who cried during snack because his banana was “closed.
“Could you unzip it for me?” he asked Catherine. Of course she did.