first camp!

My my my it has been a longgg time. I think that makes me a bad blogger. Many apologiez. Can we just forget about it and move on? Thanks.

Okay. So what’s been going on over here? Many things. Well really only one thing: camp. There were two. So I shall tell about both. And I am overwhelmed to be attempting to describe the happenings of the past 20 days. But I will try.

First camp.

The campers were kids, like 4 or 5 to 12 ish. It was about half disabled kids and the other half were lifesavers kids (kids whose moms were going to have abortions but then came to MTU and decided not to. Basically all miracle children). There were also some siblings of both groups. And parents, mostly mothers. They had their own thing going on though.

I was assigned to a small group with Natasha, Larisa, Oksana and Maksim. And I had a translator, Zhenya. Our kids were 9-12 years old. Each person was supposed to be responsible for one kid. Zhenya and I watched after Nastia, a sweet 12 year old girl with cerebral palsy I believe. She was slightly difficult, and didn’t really listen, especially to me because I don’t speak her language. But she really is sweet and wonderful.

We had some other great kids in our group too. Vitalik was an angry little guy with muscular dystrophy. It was really cool to see him open up and get nicer as the week went on. At the beginning of the week, even though I couldn’t understand him, I knew he was saying snotty comments and making fun of people just by the look on his face. Every time I would smile at him, he’d scrunch up his nose and look down and ignore me. He’d always ask about my headset to hear the translator and would be so angry that he didn’t get one. By the end of the week, he’d respond to me and laugh when I said that all American’s have blue tongues (I had just eaten a blue jolly rancher). And he smiled and played with me when I let him use the flip video camera.

I know Maksim talked to him a lot and I think it helped. We just need to pray for him, he’s this bitter kid, obviously angry about his situation. But the Lord can change his heart. Apparently he doesn’t have very much longer, so keep him in your prayers. He really is a great kid.

There was Sasha, the most adorable little boy I’ve ever seen in my life with a giggle that will stay with me for all of eternity. He had muscular dystrophy as well, but had only been in a wheelchair for two years. When everyone went around saying what their biggest problem or concern was, he said he wished that he could walk on his own. I mean can you imagine being 9 years old, having that long to be a little boy and run around and play and then all of a sudden, getting all that taken from you? I just can’t comprehend that, I especially can’t even think about how his brain processes that. It breaks my heart.

I know I already talked about it, but it hit me over and over again this past week: it isn’t fair. As I looked around a room full of beautiful souls, kind hearts, loving smiles and bodies that just don’t work, I just couldn’t understand it. Why? Why them? Why not me? What did they do? Innocent, sweet, happy children. The most beautiful things in this world, unable to experience it to the fullest because of something completely out of their control. It is absolutely not fair. It’s honestly something that is really hard for me to deal with. It makes me angry. It makes me sad, and it hurts my heart. And the worst part is that there are no answers. There is no reason. Or at least that’s how it seems.

I don’t know.

But being around them, while at times is often dark and sad, is also wonderful and joyful. Sasha’s laugh. Nastia’s smile. Masha’s hugs (sometimes). There is nothing like being around these kids, and loving them, and being loved in return. It’s fulfilling, it’s warm, it’s sometimes frustrating but it is always a picture of God. It’s always a peek into his heart. And it’s beautiful.

I just long for the day when I can run around with Sasha. When he can play and jump and I can chase him and he can do his little “teehee” laugh. That’s the only thing that I can hold onto right now.

We had Tanya, who was 12 years old and I think she also had muscular dystrophy, but she could walk. There are so many misdiagnosis’ and issues that get overlooked, especially with both physical and mental disabilities. I’m pretty sure Tanya had something else that has gone untreated thus far. Her mom asked us not to let her go “off in her own world” because she didn’t think that was good for her. So we constantly had to call her name and ask her questions so she’d stay with us. She was so sweet, and so funny. I didn’t get any of the jokes, obviously, but Zhenya told me a lot of the goofy little girl things she said. She always talked about her two dolls and how they were so excited to be at camp this year. I love her imagination.

There was also Katya. Perhaps one of the most darling and gentle girls I’ve ever met in my life. She turned 12 at camp and had some sort of muscular problem as well. She was very thin and had trouble walking, but she walked around anyways. She loved to hold my hand. She had the most genuine smile and made me wish SO badly that I could speak her language. I was sometimes assigned to watch her and so we walked together a lot. And that’s really all we could do. She is very creative and quiet and sweet. There were a couple moments I had with her that will always stay with me.

There was one time that we were playing a game during small groups. This was in the first half of the week, so I didn’t know anyone especially well and everyone was still warming up to the weird girl that spoke English and creepily tried to smile at everyone (that was all I could do!). I was sitting next to Katya and the game consisted of passing a ball of string around and saying something nice to the person you passed it to. Katya was the last to get the string and she passed it to me and said, “Lauren is good.” Maybe the most simple and generic answer, but I almost lost it instantly. What? Good? She doesn’t know that. All she knows is that I walk around and hold her hand. But apparently to her, that’s good. It was ridiculously….humbling I think. I’m not really sure how to describe the emotion I feel from that. Maybe there is no point to this story because I actually cannot put into words how that made me feel. 

Geez, I’m sorry. Haha. Oops.

The other time I think I can put into words. A lot of words. It takes a little explaining. At the end of camp at one of the last services, Pastor Dima made something awesome happen. After his skit (about a son being reconciled to his mother), he spoke to the parents in the room. Most were mothers, but there were some fathers there too. He asked the parents to come to their child. He asked them to kneel in front of them, so they were eye to eye. He told the parents to tell their child how much they loved them, how proud they were, and to ask forgiveness if they’d offended them.

So for five minutes, each parent in the room went to their child. Whether they held them, or sat with them, or whatever, they were looking their child in his eye. They were acknowledging that, though the world may not see them or love them, this mother or father loved their child and believed in him. They shared their unconditional love.

There was not a dry eye in the room. It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever witnessed.

During this time, Katya was sitting by herself. Her parent had not come. So one of the camp leaders came over and as Katya leaned her head on my shoulder, I prayed for her and Yulia translated it. I got to be that person for her. A stand-in mother. I mean I’m not at all qualified for that or anything, but it was an honest privilege to be able to be the one to pray for her right then. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.

Anyways.

There were a couple other kids in the group, like Bogdon. I’m not quite sure of his diagnosis, but he was completely adorable. He is such a good kid, always saying that he obeys his mom all the time without arguing. He told me he had to leave camp for a day but not to worry because, “I will return.” He was a precious soul.

There was also Masha. What a character. She is a darling girl, and she has Downs Syndrome. She looooooves to hug and touch and kiss everyone. Especially Maxim. Some of the funniest moments of this trip will be attributed to Masha. Whether it was her trying to attack Maxim during service and him jerking away from her, or just her yelling his name at random points in the day. She was sweet, and most definitely fun.

So anyways. First camp ruled. It was my first time at camp, too so I didn’t know what to expect. But I loved it, obviously.

So that’s the end of this. I’ll write another one about second camp probably.

Well its currently Monday and we leave in one week for Italy.

I can’t think about it.

BYEEE.