I'm sitting here proof-reading Anna's college app essays. I ask to do this for her, but the truth is, she doesn't need my help. I just want to read her words and thoughts. And all I can think about is how wonderful it has been to watch her grow up into this fantabulous woman with such wonderful writing skill. I'm sure part of it is me, too, reminiscing about the "good ol' years" at camp because I used to be her counselor those many years ago. And I remember vividly the quiet little girl that she was, pointing and shooting her super zoom camera lens every which way... As I look back, suddenly the dreamy memories are filled with insight into her thoughts and feelings. I am simply amazed. And right now, I truly miss my friend Anna. I wish I could give you a hug.

Here's a brief clip from one of her essays:

"I must have been a humorous sight to all the campers around me—a ten-year old girl walking around with a manual camera bigger than her head. The lens itself was massive enough to eclipse my face, but with the addition of the flash, the camera successfully acted as my barrier from the strangers around me. All I had to do was hide behind it, and my anxieties about meeting new people disappeared. Of course, I was rather conspicuous as the girl with the big camera, and numerous people asked rather incredulously whether I actually knew how to use the focus and the flash.

The next year when I brought my developed photos with me, I discovered that people actually liked them. The compliments gave me a bit more faith in my photography, but also a bit more faith in myself. I continued to bring cameras to camp—everything from a cheap camera with a useless flash to a digital camcorder with a built-in printer. As my technology got better and the cameras got smaller, they were losing their place as mechanisms to hide behind. After being to camp so many years, I had found a comfort in the community, and my confidence was growing.

It was rather fitting that when I was old enough for the youth program, I applied for and received a position on the slide show staff. My role on slide show put a whole new twist on taking pictures at camp. Equipped with my digital camcorder, I was to work with two other people to create a slide show for the variety show on the last night of camp. We sorted through hundreds of digital images every single night. I saw it as an opportunity to present this camp with a show that would reflect the spirit of the entire week. What I also discovered was that while taking so many pictures, the camera became an icebreaker. I was still known as the girl with the camera, or video camera, but now I would walk up to people with camera in hand and introduce myself as I asked to take their pictures.

By the end of that week on slide show, I had met virtually every one of the two hundred campers. While all of them sat facing forward watching our finished product, I faced the opposite way and was completely content with watching their faces as they expressed delight at the silly memories and sorrow at the knowledge that the week was over. The camera had evolved from being a barrier from my surroundings into a path toward my involvement with that world. It had in many ways enabled me to open up to the people around me."

The girl is bigger, the camera smaller.