Menachem Weiss, a “special” teen, reports every week to Merkaz Ha’inyanim on an angle of life that he alone can talk about
Winding Up the Summer
Shalom dear readers!
It’s that time of year and I’m nervous again.
Ezer Mizion’s retreats for CP guys like me are fantastic. They’re a lot of fun. Being with friends who share the same experiences is…well, I have no words to describe it. But still I get nervous.
One retreat is always not so far from home, and if there is a problem, someone from my family can come right away.
I’ve been going to these retreats for many years now, since I was a little boy. And each year I arrive feeling tense.
There were years when my counselor continued with me for a few years and I knew what to expect. But the last few years, it turned out that they changed my counselor every year. I had fantastic counselors and I got along with them excellently. They understood me and went along with all my manias. But each time, in the middle of the year they got engaged and then I had to get used to somebody new. That’s hard. When you’re dependent on others for every little thing, having a counselor that’s understanding is crucial. I try telling myself that all the Ezer Mizion counselors are wonderful human beings. They all come out of the same Ezer Mizion mold. But then I get nervous. Maybe this year’s counselor will be different and we won’t get along…
I made up my mind that I wouldn’t go to the retreats any more. But what happens is that by the time the next retreat comes along, I change my mind, because all in all, it’s the only real fun experience I have in the summer. It’s the only place where I meet my old friends, whom I’m very attached to. I also like the steady retreat staff very much and I’m happy to see them again every year.
The other retreat is pretty far. That makes me even more nervous ‘cause if there is a problem, my family can’t come. We go in a bus outfitted with a ramp and remain in our wheelchairs for the trip. It’s pretty comfortable but I wish it were a shorter trip to the site because I tire easily. The retreat lasts four days—four absolutely wonderful days. They call it a trip but I call it a retreat ‘cause we sleep over like in a camp. The campus was the best they could find but there are still problems for the handicapped, especially the bathrooms. My attendant is coming with me so I’m not worried about managing. Well, not more worried than usual anyways.
When all is said and done, everything almost always works out for the best. Every year, I get used to my counselor and enjoy every minute. So, right now, I’m in the tense stage that comes before the retreat, and I hope that this time too, everything will be all right, b’ezrat Hashem.
Until next time,