Me and Jeff

Me and Jeff

We were eight. Our mothers had given in, after much begging, to let us sleep out in Jeff’s tent in the small woods behind my house. The “woods” was actually only about eight feet deep, opening to a dirt road on the other side, our neighbor’s farm. However at eight it seemed big and wild and very exciting.

We set up our tent right after supper. Actually it was just far enough in so we were completely off the backyard grass. Then we filled it with blankets and pillows and lots and lots of food.

Unbeknownst to us, our mothers were keeping an eye on us, Jeff’s mother walked the street on the other side of the trees, many times apparently... mine had binoculars, and spent the night on the den sofa, so she could check often.

The night was perfect. A full moon, the sky mostly clear, full of stars. It was warm, but cool enough for blankets. We ate everything! We felt like we had stayed up almost all night, though much later, our mothers informed us that we were sound asleep by nine thirty.

I always thought that camp-out was a turning point. Suddenly we felt different, more capable of doing things without needing an adult. Not that we got brazen, we were just more confident about trying things, just feeling that we could do things, while still knowing we could ask for help if we needed it.

I always considered that one of the most important nights of my childhood. We may have been young, and not as bold as we thought at the time, but it gave us a base of confidence, a place to start. It was something I believe we both continued to build on, throughout our long and happy lives.