I have never been to a Camp where she wasn’t there. In fact she was almost always in the lobby or on the porch when I arrived and I was used to giving her a nice hug before check-in. This time, there were a few of the girls’ daddies when we arrived and the atmosphere in the lobby was quieter than usual. Five days ago, Amy was alive and looking forward to her thirteenth Camp weekend. Now, she’s in a much prettier place.

My first camp was four years ago. Amy drove me there. I had very little in the way of girl’s clothes, and she knew it. She showed me some beautiful petticoats she said she no longer wanted, and some shiny patent leather mary janes she said didn’t fit her. “If you want them, you can have them,” she said casually. I wrote her out a check that was certainly a tiny fraction of what she paid.

Later, I found out that Amy routinely gave away beautiful dresses and other pretties, and even offered to pay the way for some of her friends who couldn’t afford Camp.

Her way of celebrating Camp was radically different from mine. While I am a shy little seven year old who participates in most everything on the schedule, Amy loved to sit down with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other and chat with every person who came her way. Often she made friends with other guests staying at the resort, the staff, local residents, and people coming in for a drink, as well as the LG’s. Everyone, everyone knew who Amy was.

She always wanted everyone to have a good time. She would hate to see us moping around at Camp. I think we all knew this in our hearts, for I did not see a lot of moping at Camp Sweet Sixteen. And the weather was even more magnificent than last Camp. We had such warm and gloriously clear days we could see right up to heaven, and anyone in heaven could look down and see us too.

Karla was the first little girl I saw, with her proud mommy Caroline. Petricia, who’s been to all sixteen camps, was not far behind. I went to change into my cheerleader jumper and my new pink boots and put my hair up in high pigtails, and by the time I got back, we had a whole room full of LG’s.

My doll Ramona had the same outfit as me! How cool is that? I like, never had it together this good.

I was a bit sad to hear that Chef Barb left the resort, and not only because she did such wonderful things with food. She was a really sweet and friendly lady and genuinely liked LG’s. Even after a delicious dinner of shrimp fra diavolo, I still missed Chef Barb.

My sister Vickie sat across from me and had something else fra diavolo. She had flown all the way from Louisiana, rented a car and drove me to camp. Monday we had gone to the halloween parade in New York, my first time out in a dress, except for Camp. Hurricane Katrina had missed Lil Vickie but she did get a bit of Rita.

Brenda was in charge of the schedule this time, with help from her daddy, Mr. Vic. Brenda is one of our great creative geniuses, so I knew we were in for a special weekend. Her close chum Stephanie was with us too, to help Brenda out if she got in a jam, or trip her up if she was doing too well. Stephanie talks funny but she’s really nice and writes pretty poems and clever things.

Daisy drove up from Philly to be with us for the day. It’s always nice to see Daisy, and maybe someday she will be able to spend some time with us as an LG.

Alice came all the way from Holland (or was it the Netherlands?) to be with us once again. She brims over with girlish enthusiasm and energy. And dear Catrina (the girl with many dolls) and Suzy May (the girl with many nicknames) had once again joined us from the United Kingdom, which is rumored to be part of the E.U. but most people just call it Britain or Great Britain or England.

Lori and Aunty Dixie had driven all the way from South Carolina to be with us. Sometimes they have a gift for me, but this time I got TWO gifts - a cute black skirt with polkadots, and a pretty sailor blouse. Wow, I am so lucky to have friends like Lori and Aunty Dixie.

My dear friend and sewing teacher Lil Patty was there too. She brought a DVD of the maypole dance from Camp 15, and gave it to me! It is a perfect keepsake of that beautiful spring day, drenched with sunshine, when the girls danced their pretty satin ribbons into a long braid. As our friendships grow, we braid our lives together.

Karen was there wearing her pretty little smile and one of her beautiful handmade dresses. Tracy smiled and gave me a hug - wow her hair is long enough for some cute curls now.

But where was Karen Marie? She phoned me yesterday to say her house had got broken into. It was late when we saw her blue truck zip into the parking area across from the lodge. Half the truck was filled with stuff for Catrina and Arcee. I helped her carry some of her stuff into her room and left a little giftie on the pillow. “I forgot all my Girl Scout stuff!” Karen exclaimed, “I forgot my --”

“--your hair?” Vickie asked intuitively.

“Talk to Jason in the morning. He’s in charge of makeovers this time,” I suggested.

“You can have my hair,” Vickie offered.

I would have offered mine too, but it’s stuck on my head.

Continued ...