(no subject)
Querencia is a love and emotional tie to a place that holds special meaning to someone and provides a safe-haven when life becomes difficult. A querencia does not need to be a place of residence; it can simply mean a location in which someone feels most comfortable, complete and safe. My querencia is in the deep mountains of the Catskills, topped off with a glistening lake, smelly alpacas, and endless green roofs prevalent throughout my favorite place in the world, Camp Hilltop. My querencia, Camp Hilltop, provides me with joy, comfort, support, amazing friends, and the majority of my favorite memories.
No words can describe the feeling I receive driving up the winding road, catching the first glimpse of the bright red barn and the stunning green mountains that offset the red. Upon entering my querencia, my heart skips a beat, joy becomes caught in my throat and happiness sweeps through my veins. My entire world changes the minute I step out of the car; I find my place in between bad arts and crafts projects, swimming tests and a very well done hamburger.
Camp Hilltop holds my childhood in the palms of its beautiful, muddy hands and cradles it with all it’s might. The greatest lessons I learned happened on the Hilltop grounds. My first experiences with crushes, trust, death, and true best friends all happened sporadically around the property. The memories are encrusted in every pothole in the main dirt road, in the back porch of the arts and crafts room; they are even in the cereal dispensers in every corner of the dining room. My first encounter with death happened in the dining hall, filled with hundreds of people. I remember the exact moment I saw my sister walk out of the dining hall; instinctively I knew, even before anyone told me the actual news. I learned of my grandfather’s death in the camp office. It was my first experience with the death of a loved one; I had to deal with it while at camp, far away from my family. Camp Hilltop nurtured me in that trying time. The girls in my cabin became my distraction, the counselors became my shoulder to cry on, and the dinky old green bunk bed became my sanctuary when I sought privacy and time to reflect. Camp Hilltop assisted my grievance process, and helped me overcome that difficult time in my life. First setting foot on the dirt road leading up to my first fake log cabin I knew it would help me, nurture me and be something extraordinary.
Hilltop is an amazing place to me, but the people associated with it are even more extraordinary. I found my best friends at camp, the friends that will stay with me for the rest of my life. As the years go by, the bond becomes thicker and everlasting between the girls I shared a cabin with every summer. These nine girls are completely different from each other; however, the nine of us melt into each other and understand one another in separate, wonderful ways. I have the honor of saying I have nine best friends from Camp Hilltop, which surpasses the number of best friends anyone could possibly have in their lifetime by leaps and bounds. Each one taught me a valuable lesson in or about life that has aided me in becoming a better person. Michelle, the caregiver, taught me to nurture others. Mia, Hilltop’s comedian, exposed a new side to my sense of humor I didn’t I know I possessed, while Jersey taught me to have compassion, and Jasmin, the crazy one, taught me never to be afraid to show who I am. The countless number of lessons they have taught me, or messages these girls have brought into my life will stay with me forever, just like their friendship.
Camp Hilltop fuels my existence. The clear crisp air remains in my lungs long after I breathed it in, the mud will stay attached to the soles of my shoes long after I try to clean them off, the smell of the dining hall will circulate through my nasal passages for the rest of my life, and the love shared among us will never dim. Although my querencia may be 173 miles away from my current residence, I carry it with me all of my days, especially on difficult days. Even in long and difficult hours of life, I know that there is hope to find happiness again because I felt it before, in my querencia.
Maybe people actually know how it feels to be in their place, completely happy and content, however trying to explain it to another is the hardest thing to do. The joy and multitude of other feelings do not easily compute into words that are comprehensible to the human mind, only to the human heart. The aches I feel from being far from camp do not derive from the infliction of physical pain; rather they result from missing a place so near and dear to my heart. Few would understand this throbbing pain I am speaking about, unless they themselves also have experienced the same separation from their querencia.
Distance makes the heart grow fonder, and feel deeper than ever imaginable. I have been starved of my querencia. Not being at camp for an entire year, and then thinking about not going back to camp for the rest of my life is daunting and the scariest thought in the world. I realize that I may be powerless to choose to return to my sacred place and this creates a void in my life. I feel this void everyday for a year and a half, and it has not subsided, but ultimately grown. I always knew the tremendous power and enormous meaning of Hilltop to me, now that I am away from it and unlikely to ever return, its massive influence is magnified in my mind. The more time I spend away from camp, the more I yearn to go back to bask in the feelings of being in my querencia again. There is hope that one day, I may find another querencia, however, for today I will just have to deal with missing and remembering my one and only, Camp Hilltop.
sara kinda compelled me to do this. I wrote this essay couple months ago for an ap prompt.
Just wanted to share i suppose.
No words can describe the feeling I receive driving up the winding road, catching the first glimpse of the bright red barn and the stunning green mountains that offset the red. Upon entering my querencia, my heart skips a beat, joy becomes caught in my throat and happiness sweeps through my veins. My entire world changes the minute I step out of the car; I find my place in between bad arts and crafts projects, swimming tests and a very well done hamburger.
Camp Hilltop holds my childhood in the palms of its beautiful, muddy hands and cradles it with all it’s might. The greatest lessons I learned happened on the Hilltop grounds. My first experiences with crushes, trust, death, and true best friends all happened sporadically around the property. The memories are encrusted in every pothole in the main dirt road, in the back porch of the arts and crafts room; they are even in the cereal dispensers in every corner of the dining room. My first encounter with death happened in the dining hall, filled with hundreds of people. I remember the exact moment I saw my sister walk out of the dining hall; instinctively I knew, even before anyone told me the actual news. I learned of my grandfather’s death in the camp office. It was my first experience with the death of a loved one; I had to deal with it while at camp, far away from my family. Camp Hilltop nurtured me in that trying time. The girls in my cabin became my distraction, the counselors became my shoulder to cry on, and the dinky old green bunk bed became my sanctuary when I sought privacy and time to reflect. Camp Hilltop assisted my grievance process, and helped me overcome that difficult time in my life. First setting foot on the dirt road leading up to my first fake log cabin I knew it would help me, nurture me and be something extraordinary.
Hilltop is an amazing place to me, but the people associated with it are even more extraordinary. I found my best friends at camp, the friends that will stay with me for the rest of my life. As the years go by, the bond becomes thicker and everlasting between the girls I shared a cabin with every summer. These nine girls are completely different from each other; however, the nine of us melt into each other and understand one another in separate, wonderful ways. I have the honor of saying I have nine best friends from Camp Hilltop, which surpasses the number of best friends anyone could possibly have in their lifetime by leaps and bounds. Each one taught me a valuable lesson in or about life that has aided me in becoming a better person. Michelle, the caregiver, taught me to nurture others. Mia, Hilltop’s comedian, exposed a new side to my sense of humor I didn’t I know I possessed, while Jersey taught me to have compassion, and Jasmin, the crazy one, taught me never to be afraid to show who I am. The countless number of lessons they have taught me, or messages these girls have brought into my life will stay with me forever, just like their friendship.
Camp Hilltop fuels my existence. The clear crisp air remains in my lungs long after I breathed it in, the mud will stay attached to the soles of my shoes long after I try to clean them off, the smell of the dining hall will circulate through my nasal passages for the rest of my life, and the love shared among us will never dim. Although my querencia may be 173 miles away from my current residence, I carry it with me all of my days, especially on difficult days. Even in long and difficult hours of life, I know that there is hope to find happiness again because I felt it before, in my querencia.
Maybe people actually know how it feels to be in their place, completely happy and content, however trying to explain it to another is the hardest thing to do. The joy and multitude of other feelings do not easily compute into words that are comprehensible to the human mind, only to the human heart. The aches I feel from being far from camp do not derive from the infliction of physical pain; rather they result from missing a place so near and dear to my heart. Few would understand this throbbing pain I am speaking about, unless they themselves also have experienced the same separation from their querencia.
Distance makes the heart grow fonder, and feel deeper than ever imaginable. I have been starved of my querencia. Not being at camp for an entire year, and then thinking about not going back to camp for the rest of my life is daunting and the scariest thought in the world. I realize that I may be powerless to choose to return to my sacred place and this creates a void in my life. I feel this void everyday for a year and a half, and it has not subsided, but ultimately grown. I always knew the tremendous power and enormous meaning of Hilltop to me, now that I am away from it and unlikely to ever return, its massive influence is magnified in my mind. The more time I spend away from camp, the more I yearn to go back to bask in the feelings of being in my querencia again. There is hope that one day, I may find another querencia, however, for today I will just have to deal with missing and remembering my one and only, Camp Hilltop.
sara kinda compelled me to do this. I wrote this essay couple months ago for an ap prompt.
Just wanted to share i suppose.