Last Saturday, two days after Zion and I finally left Mary Bridge, we celebrated Maya's 10th birthday with a party at our house. The theme was "Fashionista!" The decorations rocked, the music was slammin', the food was abundant and delicious.

One by one Maya's friends showed up. Last to come were M. and her sister, and I was so happy to see them. All the girls sat and ate and talked about their summers so far. I tried to stay out of the way. I may feel young, but to them I'm ancient.

As I watched the girls interact with M., I saw how, when she did something odd, the girls would look at her and then look at each other, as if to say, "what's up with her?" At times M. would get up and start dancing to the music, completely in her own world.

After the girls finished making their hats and beach bags (what a disaster that was!) and it was time to have the runway walk and photo shoot, I noticed M. sneak into the house. When I found her she was curled up in the corner of the bathroom, completely naked, and hugging her knees. I guess she was overwhelmed. There were a lot of people and a lot going on.

I talked softly to M. and helped her put her clothes on, then walked her back to the party where I sat with her and asked her to hand out the treat bags. She did, and she seemed to be doing fine.

After M.'s mom came to get her, I reflected on the party and all that went wrong. I decided I had no business trying to do art projects before they've been fully researched and tested; I realized a ratio of one parent to fourteen 10-year-olds is asking for trouble; and I discovered that one person can take a little time to care for someone who needs a little more attention and direction, so they can participate like everyone else.