After the Man was engulfed in fire, our camp regrouped at a smaller communal pyre. Here I could feel the flames on my skin. We threw in wreckage from Xara. We threw in monkey cutouts. We threw in the expectations of what was "supposed" to happen this year. And as we let go of the broken dreams, we were able to see the true gifts we received this year. I looked around our private pyre and surged with emotion. Love swirled around the fire and lit up the faces of my camp mates. We had survived something significant. We had soldiers' camaraderie. We had become a family. So what if our camp only lasted a night? So what if the weather made naked frolicking difficult? Apparently those things weren't supposed to happen. Luckily for us, everything happened exactly as it was supposed to. And I am grateful for it all.