June 6, 2023, Bellemont- On this forty-first anniversary of Penny’s and my marriage, I could feel her spirit, as ever, with many expressions of appreciation for my efforts, coming from the campers. Of course, I won’t ever be as popular as the chef, and she reminds me of that at every turn-but it’s with a twinkle in her eye. I will slowly get over the deeply ingrained doubts over my place in the world-with a few loud exceptions, most everyone these days is my well-wisher. It is only the latter who are here at camp. I don’t miss the others.

A young man found himself in the throes of an unexpected allergic reaction to something that had never bothered him previously: Eggs. He was surrounded by caring adults and peers,and between the sous chef and me, a good supply of antihistamine was soon on site and the suffering teenager was back in the spirit of things by late afternoon. For good measure, he will be kept away from any egg dishes for the rest of camp-and a package of antihistamine will accompany him, in the hands of his lead tutor, tomorrow as they head back home.

Many times, we lack the self-knowledge that would protect us from mental allergies. Those things about others, that remind us of perhaps vulnerable things about ourselves, are ever the trigger. It matters none, though; we each get the same challenge time and again, albeit in different guises-until acceptance of a flaw, and conscious effort to transcend it, become the order of the day.

So it goes, as I learn as much about myself from the campers, as we wind down our time together.