It’s been over 20 years since that summer. But I’ve never forgotten Henchi and her kindness

Years ago, you crossed paths. It may have been a brief encounter, it may have been a relationship spanning years. In that meeting place, something changed. Her hands warmed your essence, left an imprint upon your soul.

Seven writers sought out the women who changed them — and told them of the impact they’d had

The summer I turned 11, I attended sleepaway camp for the first time. Although none of my friends would be attending Agudah Midwest, I was buoyed with excitement, enthralled by all of my sisters’ camp stories. I knew I’d be fine leaving home on my own.

I was in for an unpleasant surprise.

From the moment I stepped off the bus, I was engulfed in a cloud of desperate, deep homesickness. I managed to make one friend, but it was only our shared homesickness that drew us together.

To my disappointment (and envy), she left after a few days, while my parents were adamant that the best thing for me was to stay and prove to myself that I could handle this. But all I could talk about was how badly I wanted to go home; I’d call home multiple times a day from the camp’s pay phones.

I remember waiting in line to use the pay phone, and just as it was my turn, the phone rang. I picked up.

“I’m so homesick,” I sobbed into the receiver. “Can you call back later? I need to call my mother!” The poor, confused caller on the other end immediately agreed.

At the time, I didn’t even recognize the humor in that exchange. My homesickness trumped self-consciousness. It dictated everything. I couldn’t seem to get past it.

I don’t remember how I connected with Henchi Weiner. She was one of the head counselors — the “strict” one who enforced curfew and rules. We loved her, but everyone took her seriously.

The first time I spoke to Henchi, she patiently listened to me cry and validated my feelings. She didn’t try to convince me that my homesickness was silly or tell me I was being too dramatic. She let me be exactly whom I needed to be and feel exactly what I needed to feel.

From that day on, Henchi came to my bunkhouse every single night to tell me goodnight. The strict head counselor would come over to my bed and ask how my day had been! I couldn’t have felt more important.