During church camp, I was assigned a group of six kids. At first, I thought it was going to be a breeze because all I had to do was supervise and let them do their own thing, but no. Under the surface of supervising, there was so much more to be done. I had to make sure that the kids were all fed, that we didn’t lose one during activities, make sure they weren’t killing each other, and etc. At that point, I understood what parents go through, at least a small portion of what they go through. It was hard. One minute they’d be right next to me and then the next, they seemed to be worlds away. I realized that the adults around me are doing an amazing job and aren’t appreciated enough for the things they do. Then I remembered that when I was little, my mom told me that there were many people with children on the boat with her on their way to America. There was barely enough food and water for everyone. I realized that it must’ve been amazingly difficult to keep everything together for those people because the uncertainty of their fate at that time. Their sacrifice was for the sake of their children’s future.