Rabbi Paskind’s Column July – August 2026 “Time to Fly”
Time To Fly
I’ve been dreaming about this summer for 26 years.
In the summer of 2000, I worked as a bunk counselor at Camp Ramah in the Berkshires. As I watched 10-year-old girls have the summer of their lives, I made a promise to myself: if I ever had children, they would go to Jewish camp.
Over the years, I spent additional summers at Ramah Wisconsin and Ramah Outdoor Adventure, and each experience only strengthened that conviction. I saw children gain confidence, build lifelong friendships, develop Jewish identities, and discover strengths they didn’t know they had.
And now it’s finally happening.
As I write this article, we are packing Noa for her first summer at Ramah New England. As you read these words, she’ll already be there.
We’ve done a TON of preparing for this moment—thank you Facebook Marketplace, Target, Amazon, and the sticker-label company.
But what we’ve really been preparing for is something else: the longest time we will have ever spent apart.
People keep asking me whether I’m going to cry at drop-off. The truth is, I don’t know. I’ll miss her, certainly. But mostly, I’m excited for her.
For eight years, I’ve been doing two things at the same time: helping Noa feel deeply connected to her family, while also helping her become increasingly independent. That’s the paradox of parenting, isn’t it? We spend years building close relationships with our children while simultaneously preparing them not to need us for every little thing.
The growth happens so gradually that we hardly notice it. One day they’re learning to get dressed by themselves. Then they’re making grilled cheese sandwiches, resolving disagreements with friends and siblings, and managing their own needs while Mom is leading Shabbat services. And then suddenly, a moment arrives that reveals just how much they’ve grown.
For me, sending Noa to camp is one of those moments.
One of the greatest gifts of childhood is the opportunity to discover who you are apart from your parents. At camp, she will make decisions without checking with me. She will build friendships that belong entirely to her. She will solve problems, learn new skills, and create memories that I
will hear about only later, if at all. She will connect with counselors and other role models who will influence her in totally new ways.
As a parent, that feels like a tremendous privilege. I’m so grateful that I can offer this experience to her.
Jewish tradition teaches that our task is not simply to care for our children, but to prepare them for lives of meaning, responsibility, and connection. We spend years teaching values, offering guidance, and providing support. Every so often, we are given the opportunity to step back and watch those lessons begin to take root.
I know Noa will come home with stories, songs, inside jokes, and hopefully an even deeper love of Hebrew, Shabbat, and Jewish life. But I also know she will return having discovered something new about herself.
And that, after all, is exactly what we hope for our children—not that they remain dependent on us, but that they grow into themselves.
As our children set off on camp adventures, college orientations, first jobs, and all the other journeys that help them become who they are meant to be, may we be blessed to witness their growth with gratitude, pride, and just a little bit of kvelling from home.
