When I was a newbie at Camp, I was skeptical. Could all this
hugging and smiling be genuine, I wondered. By the end of the week,
I knew the answer. I was doing it too—and feeling it. In fact, I could barely
refrain from telling people how beautiful they looked.
The old, withheld me and been replaced by someone open and loving enough to see the beauty
in others and to want them to see it in themselves.
Author of THE DEATH OF FRED ASTAIRE—AND OTHER ESSAYS FROM A LIFE OUTSIDE THE LINES,