Seeking Simple: Camp

Last week I had the pleasure for the second time of participating as a volunteer counselor at Adventure Amputee Camp. Knowing that I would return from camp just a week before moving to Michigan, I was a little worried about being worn out from the non-stop, 5-day, literal adventure. I found, however, that as the week drew to a close, I was actually rejuvenated. My body was tired from lack of sleep, and my mind was a bit weary from the stress of keeping up with three 10-year old girls, but my spirit was strangely filled with an excitement for life and a readiness to embrace a long-distance move and tough year of residency ahead of me. So how could I possibly feel this fulness after such a busy, sometimes harrowing, week of camp?

I left Atlanta early on Wednesday morning with the full expectation that I would struggle with the demands of camp. After two months off from school, work, or anything that resembles work, I have grown quite accustomed to keeping my own hours and I have had the luxury of placing my own needs on the forefront of every day. I haven't exactly been selfish, so to speak, but I have also not been required to be selfLESS very much. And that is exactly what camp requires. Even before leaving Atlanta, I found myself with two small girls holding onto me for dear life and begging me to ride in their van. I'm not usually a kid magnet, but they saw a familiar face and so I became a magnet and a haven of safety for them. As it turns out, these were two of my three campers for the week, which I found out when we arrived at the Nantahala Outdoor Center a few hours later. My third camper was a girl who attended camp for the first time and did not find me or anyone else to be a haven of safety for the first few days. She was quiet, had difficulty walking (and so would I if I had two prosthetic limbs), and did not adapt well to being told when to do things and where to go.

After a quick lunch, a chaotic reunion between many campers and counselors, and a change of clothes, we all went whitewater rafting. The little kids were on a relatively benign river with a few large ripples of water every now and then. The bigger kids (and me) went on the Nantahala River, which was not at all benign and a cool 55 degrees which left my toes numb by the time we finished the 8-mile ride. Dinner and dry clothes were wonderful, and then the first attempt at bedtime enforcement began. I was ill-prepared for how to best allow 3 little girls enjoy camp and also keep them quiet after "lights out". Trust me, the concept of whispering does not last long for girls that age, especially on the first night of camp when excitement and fear combine to create an atmosphere of giggles, screams, and whines. One of my campers presented me with two pill boxes for the week, which contained more pills than any elderly person probably takes. As I lay in bed that night trying to quiet the girls down, I was wishing I could give a double dose of the nighttime medications, but I resisted. And after two trips to the bathroom with two different girls, we finally all settled down for the night at around 11:30. I think this is when I took a shower. I didn't get the girls showered until the next morning. Whew, what a day!

The next three days were pretty similar if not busier, but each day I felt a little more prepared and had a little more rapport with my campers. They were more tired each night, so thankfully bedtime was easier each night. Before camp was over, they had been horseback riding, gem mining, played tennis, went to a swimming pool, and spent a day on a lake swimming, tubing, and skiing.

So you may still be wondering how I became filled as my energy became sapped. First of all, I prayed before the camp for God to give me the selflessness to continually place campers above myself and even other volunteers' needs above my own. I don't know if I succeeded in this or not, but I did feel God's mercy on me as I woke up at 4:30am when one of my campers fell out of the top bunk (she was basically ok, considering the height from which she fell), I felt a patience that was not my own when I was awakened at 5:30am another day by a girl who had just wet the bed and was covered in urine (and it smelled), and I felt God's provision when I happened to be watching and close enough to jump in the pool as one of my campers sunk to the bottom and nearly drowned. How could I not be filled when I have been so blessed beyond my own patience and power?

Also, I was impacted this year even more than last year by the sheer reality of this camp and the fact that it exists. In a perfect world, there would be no need for an amputee camp. There would be no children born with under-developed or missing limbs. There would be no young lives that have been interrupted unapologetically by cancer. In a perfect world these precious kids would not need to gather together in order to feel accepted and loved for who they are. In a perfect world this camp would not exist. Last year, I absolutely LOVED this camp and had a great time. This year, I absolutely fell IN LOVE with the kids for whom the camp exists. Each of the kids is unique and special, and it is a joy to look them in the eyes and try to learn who they are. I am so thankful to have been invited into their lives for even a few days, and I look forward to watching many of them grow into young men and women in the years to come. I still have no idea what any of these kids (or any adults) with amputations experience on a daily basis, though I have seen the logistics of putting on and taking off prosethetic limbs, writing and eating with one or no hands, and navigating stairs or hills with crutches or prosthetic legs. I still don't know what it is like to look in the mirror and not see a symmetrical reflection, but I am learning to look at each of my new friends and see a complete and wonderful person. So I guess my spirit was filled last week by a dose of harsh reality that was followed and overwhelmed by a dose of sweet comeraderie.