GOT COMMUNITY?

Justin Gomez

8th Grade • Homeschool

Community: “a group of people living in the same place or possessing a characteristic in common.” Or by my definition: a group of extraordinary people who are kind, open, and welcoming to one another, and who treat each other as though they were family. My definition gives an accurate insight into the true meaning of community. It’s not just some people who live near each other. It isn’t just some folks whose lawn you mow. It’s not some random neighbor you helped open a pickle jar. It’s much more than that; it’s the people who stand beside you, making you feel at home. The people who make you feel safe, and who care and watch over you as if you were family. That is community. And I know this because I speak from experience.

When I headed into my first Winter Retreat, I will admit, I was incredibly uptight and nervous. Not only because it was a new experience, but because I was surrounded by older kids that I hardly knew. The Retreat is an annual camping event for my church’s youth group. I had only been to the weekly youth group meetings a few times and was not acquainted with the people there. Before the Retreat, I didn’t know what community really meant. I didn’t even know that I was standing right in the midst of one.

When I first arrived at the camp, I held tight to my pillow and slung my duffle bag straps around my shoulder. At first there was a bit of confusion which didn’t veil the fact that I was

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nervous. Where do I put my bag? Where am I supposed to go? Are they telling us where our cabins are? I had many questions and it seemed like there was no time to ask them. I stayed close to my brothers who went on the trip with me, and eventually, we made it into one large room where the confusion was sorted out. Because it was my first Retreat, I was sentenced to “Bunking with Siblings,” which to me was quite equivalent to a death penalty. I didn’t want to be a burden to my older brothers; and I knew I could be bothersome from time to time. But, to my surprise, bunking with my brothers wasn’t all that bad. I was able to ask questions and I felt less nervous knowing both of my brothers would be near. Not only were my brothers comforting, but the cabin leaders and other members were kind and generous. They were checking in, making sure everyone and everything was alright and that everyone was happy. This was my first glimpse of community.

The first service of the weekend went well, and afterward, everyone headed back to their cabins. I walked through the night with my cabin leaders guiding me. I looked up at the bright stars and moon, undisturbed by city lights, and amazed by them, began to talk about how stunning they were. There was no feeling of being left out or nervous. I felt calm, like I was surrounded by family. What was this feeling? I shook it off and continued walking in the direction of my cabin.

Once inside our cabin, I jumped on my bed. I got some snacks and settled in for the night. I began to read when I smelled something strangely familiar. I got up and looked around. Fouad, (a cabin leader and overall super nice guy) was placing something wrapped in tinfoil on a clothes iron. “Are you making a sandwich?” I asked incredulously.

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“I’m making a grilled cheese. You want one?” he replied.

Really, he’d make a sandwich for me? Though appreciative, and shocked by the generosity, I responded, “No, thank you,” for 2 reasons: I don’t like grilled cheese sandwiches, and I was certain this was bound to go wrong somewhere along the line. At last, the sandwich finished cooking, and Fouad bit into it to try it. The bread was soggy, and the cheese wasn’t even melted. It was floppy and mushy. The sandwich was a complete fail. The whole cabin heartily joked and laughed about it. I was really enjoying the cabin’s company.

The next day, I sat on a bench, eating snacks, while I watched some people play basketball. I’m not one for sports, so I wasn’t playing with anyone, and normally I wouldn’t watch anyone play either; but one of the campers, Lily, told me to watch her “beat the guys,” which we’ll just say she did. As I was watching Lily get dominated — I mean, “beat the guys,” — I saw a girl walk away from our cabin in the distance and back to hers extremely suspiciously. She moved like a generic criminal in a trashy 60’s superhero movie. Soon after, when my bunkmates and I gathered back in our cabin, we devised a plan to prank the girls’ cabin. Everyone talked, participated, and revised the plan to ensure a gorgeous, hysterical outcome. The plan was that Fouad and Chris (a hilarious guy in our cabin who was the son of the Retreat’s keynote speaker) would distract the girls, while my brother, Adrian, snuck through the back of their cabin to plant a Bluetooth speaker like a bomb. The speaker would allow us to blast music late at night while we remained safe in our cabin. However, our plan failed.

While Fouad was distracting the girls, one of them asked him, “Did you get to the Doritos yet?” The girl I saw coming from

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our cabin’s direction did something to our Doritos! I was in my cabin with a Dorito halfway in my mouth when Fouad burst in through the front door shouting,

“DON’T EAT THAT!”

“What?” I mumbled as I spat the chip out.

Fouad continued, “The girls put something in our snacks, DON’T EAT ANYTHING!” One of the other people in our cabin felt the bag of tainted Doritos carefully, and was shocked to find that it was heavier than usual. I smelled them and sure enough, they did not smell like Doritos. We eventually discovered that the girls put Ghost Pepper powder in the Doritos.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I shouted to Fouad. After all, he had just saved my mouth from minutes of desperation and heat. Everyone was so thoughtful about those around them, they cared about what happened to me and all the other people at the Retreat.

After the commotion died down, Fouad explained that we needed revenge. So, we created yet another plan. Once more, everyone had a part, and everyone was included. We took the leftover cheese from the floppy, soggy, grilled cheese sandwiches and waited for them to soften, but not melt; just enough to stick to whatever they hit. Then we determinedly walked over to the girls’ cabin, pretending to be mad about something. Chris demanded that all the girls come out; however, they smelled something fishy was happening, or…in this case, something cheesy. They didn’t come out and Lea, the girls’ leader angrily asked what we were doing. The curious girls pushed the door open from the inside. All I heard was Chris yell, “ATTACK!” I

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saw the pieces of American cheese as they flew past me. Lea turned and covered her head. She turned back to take a glance and I nailed her in the face with a slice of cheese. I had one left and noticed a lot of objects on the floor of the girls’ cabin. I thought I’d throw it there because it would be hard to find. I have no regrets. Once I threw it, us guys bolted toward our cabin’s door, each of us feeling like the girls were right on our tails. Fouad moved a bunk bed in front of the door so no one else could get in. To this day I still have flashbacks of that battlefield, the adrenaline pumping, the fallen bodies of the cheesed enemies.

To finish things off, we placed the music speaker on their windowsill, outside their cabin, and turned off the lights in our cabin so they couldn’t see us peeking and listening. Then we connected to the speaker and blasted the worst music I’d ever heard. Fouad called Lea and said in a groggy sounding voice, “Turn off that music, please.”

“We’re not playing any music. Where’s that coming from?” Lea hung up the phone, and the girls frantically searched for the speaker, until they finally found it outside and turned it off. I jumped into my bed laughing. I no longer felt awkward around these guys. Everything was great. Being so much younger than everyone else didn’t affect me. This Retreat being one of the only things I’d done with them didn’t bother me, either. I felt like we were family. Instead of feeling out of place, I felt like this was my place, and these people were my people. Everyone went to bed happily.

The next morning and last day of the Retreat, we had one more service and headed home. On the ride, I had another unusual, strange feeling. I sat quietly in my seat, surrounded by

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all the new people I had met, and contemplated what this feeling was. I thought hard and concluded that this was the bittersweet feeling of the trip coming to an end.

Despite the sadness that the trip was over, I realized I had learned so much from it. I found a whole family, a community. I discovered what it means to be part of a community. To have a group of people who understand you and care for you. People who are kind, generous, treat you like family, and let you know you belong. I’m grateful for them and wouldn’t give them up for the world. This is the true meaning of community.

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