In the May issue of Baltimore’s Child I wrote about Camp Me Too!, a weekend experience for bereaved children. On May 14^th and 15^th I was there with 15 children and 15 buddies. Coincidentally, the number 15 in Christian numerology "refers to the energy that is found within the acts of divine grace" – a perfect description of the power of the program designed by the director, Doreen Horan, and her colleague and co-creator, Heidi Schreiber-Pan.

It was a time to laugh and a time to cry, a time to listen and a time to be heard, a time to be silent and a time to make noise, a time for sorrow and a time for joy.

The magic began when the parents and children parted with soft goodbyes and the children sat patiently waiting for the next step in their weekend journey.

A time to laugh. We hiked up to an outdoor clearing in the woods turned mini-amphitheater where the staff, buddies, and children formed a circle and played an ice-breaker game similar to musical chairs. To fill an empty spot in the circle, they ran in all directions, bumping into one another and laughing all the while. I marveled at the sight of children whose hearts were broken but not their spirits. Another game familiarized them with each other’s names that included touch. It was already clear that every activity was designed to aid their healing.

Back to the lodge where the children, ages 7 to 13 were paired with their buddies for the weekend. Phillip and Barbara, two volunteer buddies said they came to give. And give they did, in full measure, leaving their own families for a weekend, to give their time, their energy, and their compassion.

A time to speak and a time to listen. Sitting in a circle in the lodge, each child shared his and her story of loss. And everyone listened. And everyone knew they were no longer alone in their terrible journey of grief.

Change was the constant theme of the weekend. Ms. Doreen captivated the children when she spoke of change. In her hand she held a stuffed plush caterpillar, and as her talk came to an end, she unfolded the beautiful wings of the butterfly that was snuggled inside. A walk in the woods followed and the children tuned in to the wonders of change in nature. The youngest child there, Lucas, told me he was looking for a tadpole and that nature to the tadpole was "home, sweet home."

In their cabins, the children and their buddies talked about Duffy, a lion character in a book the children received when they arrived. Duffy needed courage. Shortly thereafter, Dr. Joanne Vizzini arrived with an array of her original hand puppets. A psychotherapist and pastoral counselor, Dr. Vizzini’s brilliant and entertaining presentation taught the children what it takes to deal with loss. She amplified the need for courage – the courage to do the hard work of grief, the courage to ask for help, the courage to stay and not run away, the courage to be a peace-maker, the courage to make new friends, the courage to support and help others, the courage to wake up each day and voice their affirmations of who they are – likable, lovable, human beings.

A time to make noise. Dr. Dorothy Adamson Holley, and Deirdre Osiomwan, came and taught the buddies and children about African drumming and dance. With drums and cow bells and gourds that rattle, everyone drummed and danced with all of their energies and with all of their might. Children who drummed away their pent-up feelings made room for healing.

A time to be silent. The children sat silently as they listened to soothing music, and practiced breathing exercises they had learned the day before. They expressed their feelings again, through color – a powerful wordless tool of expression.

A time for sorrow. In one-on-one moments with their buddies, the children spoke about their inner turmoil. Their fully-present listener enabled them to find meaning in their experiences and to process their feelings.

A time for joy. By sundown, strangers had become friends.

On Sunday, the parents returned and they too, received helpful insights into the process of grief, their own and their children’s. By the closing ceremonies, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that something wonderful had happened at Camp Me Too. The children left equipped with new understanding and skills. The volunteers who came to give, left with the gift of receiving. And everyone left with the memory of an extraordinary experience that had the power to transform us all.

This first-time weekend camp experience was a tribute to the staff of Stella Maris and their ongoing gifts of goodness.