We picked her up from camp on Friday afternoon, and when I first saw her, she glowed. Not with happiness to see us, but with news and stories and songs to share. She was bubbling over.

Turns out, she is good at camp. The way one is good at a sport or a hobby. I was, too. In fact, it was one of the first things I felt really good at in my life, so I was thrilled to discover she has a similar talent.

Camp is a place where you leave real life behind and make a new kid-run society, one that, for the most part, prizes qualities like enthusiasm, cooperation, curiosity, adaptability, kindness and silliness. You (not your parents or your background) define yourself. Emotional bonds and experiences are distilled so that one week feels like three months. Camp memories and friendships endure. My words fail me here, but if you’re a camper, you know.

And now she’s a camper. Liz said, “Kate, she’s a Rocky River girl.” Indeed.

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