This Shabbat marks the beginning of Second Session at Camp Interlaken—and the beginning of the book of Devarim.

 

Devarim means “words.” Much of the book is Moses standing before the Israelites as they prepare to enter the Promised Land, retelling the story of how they arrived at this moment.

 

He speaks about the miracles and the mistakes. The courage and the fear. The moments of faith and the moments of doubt. He reminds them where they have been because he understands that a community cannot move forward without first knowing the story it is carrying.

 

But Moses is doing more than reviewing history.

 

He is preparing the next generation to take responsibility for what comes next.

 

That is what makes Devarim feel so connected to camp.

 

Every summer at Camp Interlaken becomes part of a much larger story. Campers arrive with their own hopes, nerves and expectations. Staff arrive ready to lead, often discovering along the way how much leadership will ask of them. Families place their trust in this community. Alumni return carrying memories of summers that shaped them years ago.

 

Each person becomes part of a story that began long before they arrived and, we hope, will continue long after they leave.

 

That is the power of camp.

 

A rainy afternoon does not remain only a rainy afternoon. It becomes the day a cabin invented a ridiculous game that campers still talk about years later.

 

A difficult first night away from home becomes the story of a counselor who stayed close, cabinmates who offered comfort and a child who discovered that they could do something hard.

 

A nervous first attempt becomes the beginning of confidence.

 

An awkward first hello becomes a lifelong friendship.

 

Camp has a remarkable ability to turn ordinary moments into lasting stories.

 

But those stories do not happen by accident.

 

They happen because someone noticed.

 

Someone welcomed the new camper.

 

Someone trained and supported the counselor.

 

Someone maintained the field, repaired the cabin, led the song, taught the activity, made the meal, offered the scholarship, served on the committee, contributed financially or chose to believe that camp was worth investing in.

 

Every meaningful camp memory rests on an act of leadership and stewardship that may never appear in the story itself.

 

That is an important lesson for all of us.

 

It is easy to love camp for what it has already given us. It is harder—and more necessary—to ask what camp now needs from us.

 

A strong camp community cannot live only on nostalgia. It cannot rely only on the stories of the summers that came before. It must continue to grow new leaders, welcome new families, strengthen its programs, care for its facilities and ensure that future generations can experience the same sense of belonging, discovery and joy.

 

Camp is not simply a place we preserve.

 

It is a community we actively build.

 

Every generation inherits Camp Interlaken for a time. We receive its traditions, its songs, its values and its stories. Then we are asked to care for them, strengthen them and pass them forward.

 

That responsibility belongs to all of us.

 

It belongs to the staff member learning how to lead with patience and purpose.

 

It belongs to the camper who chooses to include someone standing at the edge of the group.

 

It belongs to the parent who helps another family understand why camp matters.

 

It belongs to the alumnus who stays connected.

 

It belongs to the volunteer, donor and community leader who recognizes that the future of camp depends on more than affection. It depends on action.

 

In Devarim, Moses reminds the Israelites that their story is not finished. Their past has prepared them, but their future will depend on the choices they make next.

 

The same is true for Camp Interlaken.

 

Our history is rich, but history alone cannot carry a community forward.

 

Camp must be nurtured.

 

Its leaders must be developed.

 

Its traditions must remain alive while still making room for new voices and new ideas.

 

Its doors must remain open to children who need the confidence, independence, friendships and sense of belonging that only camp can provide.

 

And its future must be treated as a shared responsibility.

 

This Second Session begins with hundreds of new stories waiting to be written.

 

Somewhere at camp this week, a camper will try something they never imagined they could do. Someone will find their people. A young staff member will discover their ability to lead. A difficult moment will become a lesson in resilience. A simple act of kindness will become a memory that lasts for decades.

 

Those moments are why camp is special.

 

They are also why camp must never be taken for granted.

 

The Camp Interlaken story is still being written. Every camper, staff member, family, alumnus, volunteer and supporter holds part of the pen.

 

May we continue to tell the story proudly.

 

May we lead it wisely.

 

May we care for it generously.

 

And may we ensure that the next generation has the opportunity to add its own chapter.

 

Shabbat shalom.