Camp Mission Possible

We followed the young man, one of the "commanders" assigned to our son Joel, to the dorm to help him get settled in his new, and very temporary location. We looked in the room that contained several beds already occupied, and I felt a mixture of trepidation and excitement for Joel that he would be staying in this dorm for the next two nights. We opened his suitcase to remove his fluffy, warm sleeping bag, got out his favorite pillow and placed them on the unoccupied bed which happened to be approximately in the center of the room, and looked around the room.

We were comforted to an extent by meeting some of the other campers, similar to Joel in that all had some kind of disability, mental or physical or a combination of both. My first impression was that Joel was among friends of various ages and various disabilities, but all of whom were charming in their limitations, special in their hunger for life, and warm in their joy and excitement. This thought created an emotional sense of confidence in the camp as we completed the introductions and prepared to leave the dorm and the center. We hugged Joel goodbye, with that same feeling that all parents have throughout their lives, not unlike the mother letting her daughter off for the first day of kindergarten, or saying goodbye for the first day of college, or perhaps even that odd feeling of elation mixed with loving concern as the young couple heads off on their honeymoon. Will Joel be okay? Will he have fun? Will he learn? Will he need us? Will he eat right? Will he sleep? All normal parenting thoughts.

It was Camp Mission Possible, not impossible as Joel reminded us countless times, located at the 4-H Center at Lake Brownwood. A camp complete with a playground, climbing wall, swimming pool, shooting range, cafeteria, offices, dorms, canoes, and plenty of space for playing and learning. There were plenty of sponsors, adults, and students called commanders to ensure the safety and success of each attendee. The schedule was rigid in its specific details on expectations, including bedtime, meals, events, rules, discipline, and code of conduct; but the love and compassion seemed to have no boundaries, for it oozed freely and unconditionally from the directors, sponsors, and commanders (who were not really commanders but rather facilitators or care givers).

Two days later--it felt like two months in many ways and two hours in others--we returned to the 4-H center to pick up Joel and see the final event, a video of all the campers and their experiences. It was easy to see our tall son in the front row as we enter the large but darkened room. The music began and included inspirational music and even more inspirational pictures as we watched photographs of each camper climb, shoot, run, dance, fish, and swim. Among the most touching pictures were the shots of the campers as they were carefully strapped in for the climbing wall and reached to the stars with each step and each grip--and were gently pulled up by the attached ropes to ring the bell at the top of the wall.

After the video, we gathered up Joel's belongings and following many thanks and hugs for and from many people, we returned home with our son the hero who had rung the bell. The bell rings loud and clear for all the special children in the world and those who help them achieve the impossible.

As I read the paper, watch the news, and learn about bombs, death, suicide, drugs, terrorism, and destruction, I remind myself that the darkness of the world does not come from hearts of the special children. The light of the world shines brightly for them and for the many who reach out to help them ring the bell. Thank you 4-H Center and Camp Mission Possible for making the dreams come true. May your bell ring loudly, clearly, joyfully, and beautifully for all to hear.