Dumpster Diving and Baby Birds

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Walking by the camp office after breakfast, I was enthusiastically greeted with a shout from a petite camper standing by the dumpster, “Kate, come here! We need your help! Our cabin trashcan dropped in. Can you get it?” 

“No problem,” I quickly responded. 

I looked in and there was no trashcan in sight. 

“Are you sure? I don’t see a trashcan.” 

“Oh, I think it was dropped in yesterday. We can’t find it.” 

“Kate, there’s a baby bird on a rock by our cabin, what should we do?” 

And as I walked past the bathroom, “Kate, my toothpaste is too spicy. I can’t brush my teeth.” 

Which was quickly followed by, “Ow! My brush is stuck in my hair. Kate, can you get it out?” 

Each of these minor obstacles, was a refreshing reminder of simple pleasures— clean teeth, caring for other creatures, snarl-free hair, recovering a lost object— all of which each camper managed on her own with only a little guidance. And the trashcan? It was found where it had been left beneath a tree, no dumpster dive required.