Tags » Naaleh

Why I mistrust comfort

I think my father died because he was comfortable with his doctor. It’s not the doctor’s fault. I don’t know if the doctor urged my father to get a second opinion or see a specialist. 463 more words

Arise, Ye Prisoners of Summer Camp. Part 2

Wake up! Market time! Time to get to market!

It’s not the kind of thing one expects to hear shouted—or rather, bellowed—by one’s bunk counselor. But this was Camp Habonim Naaleh, so nothing really fazed us by midsummer, even if the counselor in question underscored his pronouncement by repeatedly whacking a small tin pot with a giant tin ladle. 555 more words