Shabbat shalom, Interlaken.

This is the last Shabbat of first session.

At camp, that sentence carries weight.

For our campers, it means the end of a journey that began with nervous hellos, new cabinmates, unfamiliar paths, and the quiet question every child brings with them into a new experience: Will I find my place here?

And then, somehow, camp does what camp has always done.

The paths become familiar. The songs become theirs. The cabin becomes home. Strangers become friends. Counselors become role models. Traditions become memories. And a place that once felt new begins to feel like it has always belonged to them.

This week’s Torah portion, Matot-Masei, speaks beautifully to this moment.

Matot begins with vows, promises, and the power of words. Masei recounts the journeys of the Israelites through the wilderness: they left one place, camped in another, moved again, camped again.

Words and journeys.

That is what a camp session is.

And in many ways, that is what a camp community is.

Camp is built by the words we speak and the journeys we make possible.

It is built when a counselor says, “You can do it.”

When a cabinmate says, “Sit with us.”

When a songleader says, “Sing louder.”

When a camper says, “I was nervous, but now I love it here.”

When a parent says, “This place helped my child grow.”

When an alum says, “Camp shaped who I became.”

When a community says, “This matters, and we will continue to support it.”

The Torah reminds us that words are not small. Words create promises. Words build trust. Words form communities. And at camp, words can change the way a child sees themselves.

A simple sentence can become a memory.

“You belong here.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“You are braver than you think.”

“You are part of something bigger.”

Those words do not stay at camp. They travel home in our children. They show up in the way they treat their siblings, welcome a new student, try something difficult, sing a little louder, stand a little taller, and understand that Jewish life can be joyful, communal, meaningful, and deeply alive.

That is the impact of camp.

It does not end when the session ends.

Camp lives on in the children who return home more confident, more connected, more independent, more Jewishly engaged, and more aware that they are part of a larger story.

And that is why camp is not only a summer program.

Camp is a communal responsibility.

It belongs to all of us.

It belongs to the campers who fill it with energy and laughter.

It belongs to the staff who give their hearts, patience, creativity, and leadership every day.

It belongs to the parents who trust us with what is most precious.

It belongs to the alumni who still carry Interlaken songs, friendships, and memories decades later.

It belongs to the committee members, donors, volunteers, professionals, and community leaders who understand that places like this do not happen by accident.

They are built.

They are protected.

They are strengthened.

They are passed from one generation to the next.

Masei lists every stop on the Israelites’ journey because every stop mattered. Every place shaped who they were becoming.

The same is true here.

A camper’s first Shabbat at Interlaken matters.

Their first time jumping into the lake matters.

Their first time leading Birkat Hamazon matters.

Their first friendship, first success, first moment of courage, first feeling that “this is my place” — all of it matters.

These moments shape children.

And when we support camp, we are not simply supporting cabins, programs, fields, waterfronts, and facilities.

We are supporting the sacred work of helping children become more themselves.

We are supporting Jewish joy.

We are supporting friendship.

We are supporting resilience.

We are supporting belonging.

We are supporting the next generation of our community.

As first session comes to a close, we are grateful for the journey our campers have taken and for the words, people, and moments that helped guide them along the way.

We are grateful for the counselors who carried more than most people will ever see.

We are grateful for the families who believe in the power of camp.

We are grateful for the generations who built Interlaken before us.

And we are grateful for the community that continues to make this place possible.

May we never take for granted what happens here.

May we continue to foster our children’s love of camp.

May we support, strengthen, and protect this sacred place as a home for Jewish growth, joy, connection, and belonging.

And may the journey of this session travel home with our campers as a blessing — reminding them that they are part of a story much bigger than themselves, and that Interlaken will always be part of who they are becoming.

Shabbat shalom.