Do you remember evenings by the campfire

Who doesn't sometimes think back to a children's summer camp? First on the schedule came morning exercises, then the lineup and water "ceremonies," mostly held in the fresh morning air. And later everyone headed to breakfast. Usually porridge was served: rice, semolina, buckwheat. Tea and the ever-present sandwich came with the porridge. On the table were sliced sausage, bread, cheese, butter that was so awkward to spread. If you wanted—take cheese and sausage, put them on bread and eat. No appetite? Have a plain sandwich. And sometimes in the morning you were so hungry that your friend's sandwich, and sometimes more than one piece, brought immense joy. And what memories of cocoa! Mmm... Now, from the vantage point of years lived, you realize there was nothing special about it, but back then... The only things better than cocoa were condensed milk and halva, though the favorite would change. Cocoa was poured into glass tumblers, little steam rising from it. You drank it in tiny sips—it was that hot. And when the bottom of the glass started to show through—that was the tastiest part. Of course, there was free time too, and then the children's camp would quickly come alive with games, shouts, and fun. The boys played soccer, some played basketball. The older kids chased each other, splashing water.

After a couple of hours the children's camp instantly transformed into a living anthill. It even seemed that these "little ants" were completely uncontrollable. Though in fact everything was quite organized. We were always going somewhere, for example, to the movies, to museums, and on excursions. Everyone especially looked forward to going to the sea: sandcastles, buoys that felt so close, and the scorching sand. And if you swam beyond the buoys, the stern counselors would immediately start whistling, shouting that swimming was over. That was the real children's vacation. Not sitting at home all the time, occasionally going with mom and dad to some body of water.

But the most memorable were the nighttime outings—who didn't love softly singing songs, eating baked potatoes, watching the fire and stoking the campfire... Work was immediately divided between the boys and girls; there was something for everyone to do, since we needed to bring firewood, light the fire, cook the potatoes. The older kids brought a guitar. To such songs we became almost like family. It was a child's vacation done in a grown-up way. It was intoxicating; you wanted to be there all night. But as everyone knows, all good things come to an end. We really didn't want to go, but it was time. But when you came back to your dorm room, you were allowed to spend half the night discussing the evening campfire.

Traditionally, the children at the camp eagerly await the last, royal night. Much was allowed, for example, sitting in other rooms, couples not parting, talking the whole night through. And if you had a white sweater, you were practically a star—because with it you could catch bats. Having caught a bat, clearly visible against the light, you became a star. At first you showed the bat to everyone, worried but holding it tight; later you felt sorry for it and set it free. Gradually, everyone disperses...

And in the morning a long farewell to our dear girlfriends and friends awaits us, and we are absolutely sure that we will by no means ever be able to forget them and the children's camp.