When I was 8 years old, my parents sent me away to camp for the first time. I think they needed a break from all my talking! I didn’t want to go, I didn’t know anyone and I cried all the way on the bus. But when I got to Camp HoneyRock in Wisconsin, I had one of the best experiences of my life. To this day, when I think of camp, I think of afternoons spent learning archery, doing wood-burning crafts and riding horses, and nights sitting around the campfire, making s’mores and singing Kumbaya (that’s not a metaphor, we really did). When I became a parent, I was fortunate enough to be able to send my kids to camp, and now they look forward to sending their own children when they’re old enough.