For the past several years, I have been involved with the Muscular Dystrophy Association. It's one of those things where, if you allow yourself to be truly alive in the moments you are at their summer camp, you can't help but return the next year. It's often hard and frustrating, but there is something about it. Most of my time throughout the week was spent simply 'hanging out' with my camper and others in our cabin group. There is always a fire burning, and one camper is always encouraging somebody to throw more wood on the fire... to "make it bigger".
Muscular dystrophy in one sense is a very sad disease. No cure. Often, a shortened life expectancy. Limited mobility. A constant dependence on others. Though these negatives are stinging reality in the lives of most of the campers, there is much to be learned from them. Many learn more about love, the beauty of interdependence, and the joy of true community than many of us ever will. For this week of camp, all bets are off, the field is leveled, and everyone is somebody.
Many of the campers are loud and boisterous, while others remain practically silent. Yet to each of them, camp is like a little morsel of heaven. Unfortunately, this heaven isn't eternal and has been cut short. MDA just announced that the age limit for their summer camps would be dropping from 21 to 17. 4 years of this magical place stolen from many of them. Apparently, those making the decisions haven't spent time at one of their summer camps, or this decision would have happened only after much more deliberation. For these kids, this is what they live the other 51 weeks of the year for. It is the highlight of their years, and for many and their shortened lives, it is a yearly source of strength, love, and joy.
When a camper has reached an age where they will no longer be able to return to camp, their counselor is asked to say a few things to everyone about their camper. This year, I was up, as Ben is now 21. Typically, there are about 6-10 "graduates" as they are lovingly referenced. This time, there were 37. Not just 37 campers, but 37 of about 90 campers who will no longer be invited back to camp; not another week of joy and camaraderie, and no partaking of a small morsel of heaven.
Yet, there is still a fire burning. A passion for life and for living; for loving each other and relishing in the joy that comes simply from 'hanging out' with one another. That is a fire which can never be put out.
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