For the past couple of summers, I have had the awesome privilege of being a summer swim team coach. Before I started, I actually wasn't that big of a fan of kids. I took the job because I loved my team and it was conveniently close to my house, but I didn't expect to have such an enlightening experience in return.

Our team consisted of about 150 of the neighborhood kids ranging in ages 5 to 18. All the kids in our neighborhood all grew up playing outside together and a lot of our parents were friends, so everyone knew everyone. It was a very close-knit community.

Every day was exactly the same. Wake up at 6:45 AM, grab a quick breakfast, hop in the pool for the older kids' practice, hop out and then coach until 11:00. My fellow coaches were also older kids from the neighborhood, and we all knew each other from growing up together which made working together that much easier.

The first couple of weeks were an adjustment period of sorts. It was so weird basically being in charge of 100 little rascals without any sort of guidance besides the antecedent knowledge we had from prior years of swimming. It was even weirder to see them wait at the wall for our instruction after claiming to have "finished" the set we gave them...30 seconds ago.

As the weeks went on though, each of the six coaches started developing friendships with the kids. We assessed where they were from day one, and it was incredible to watch them grow each day. As a coach, it was rewarding to watch them drop times in their events and master new skills in the sport. The look of joy that came across their faces when they finished an event with a record time was something I'll never forget, and it was something we helped them achieve together.

They had much to learn from us, but we had even more to learn from them.

Besides seeing them in the pool, I would see the kids outside of swim practice hanging outside around the neighborhood and we became even closer from that. I got to know them on a more personal level instead of from the professional one I was used to. Mutual respect was the foundation of our interactions, but that didn't stop them from staying true to their goofy selves.

I would see them laugh, and play, and ride bikes and do all the things my friends and I used to do this in what now feels like forever ago. They genuinely cared each other and accepted everyone as a friend. They would tease each other in playful ways and then follow up with random acts of innocent kindness as a way to prove it's just all laughs.

Their imaginations were something of a dream. I always envied the way they would come up with games to play with each other and the rules they would make. They had vivid ideas of who they wanted to be and confidence in all the wild opinions they had. Their mindsets became infectious because they gave me hope that dreams can come true without obstruction.

Their honesty was probably the funniest and most brutal thing about them. Kids have no problem telling you exactly how it is and perhaps that is what makes them such a joy to be around. They were honest (sometimes a little too honest) with the coaches about the sets they did and didn't want to do. They were honest with each other when it came to their back and forth roasting sessions. They were honest with their intentions and they simply aimed to make everyone around them happy.

"Our" kids exemplified the symbol of childhood innocence that many of us hope to hold on to all our lives.

Their happiness and naivety became contagious, and for three months we all got to feel what it was like to be worry-free for once. Summers spent with them always flew by too fast. I left for college with their well-being constantly running through the back of my mind. At the end of the season, they wrote the coaches "thank you" letters, and I took them with me to college which served as the vessel for my sanity during my first semester.

I was pleasantly surprised to get a call from my dad one day while I was away at school he told me they came looking for me whilst trick-or-treating at our house. It was nice knowing that they still cherished our friendship despite the long distance, unlike some people my age do. Every now and then, I get homesick like everyone else away at school. Their letters, the memories, and most importantly, the lessons they taught me are what bring me back to internal balance.

In a few short years, I will finally be starting my life, my adult life, that is. Distractions of adult responsibilities can't help but make me feel as though my childhood self is slowly disintegrating. Yet, I know that once I come back for the summer again, I will be reminded of all the bliss they brought me during such a short amount of time. Mortality is something we can never escape, but we should never lose touch with the child within us.