kindle

“I wish I can come back next year.”
“I wish camp could be all year.”
It is the final night of Camp Kindle. We huddle cross-legged on the floor of the dining hall as one by one, each member of the camp community crosses the stage to make a fervent wish and light a candle along a black awareness ribbon. For the first time, I am hit by the reality of how much these children have suffered, and how much difference a week of camp really can make in their lives.
“I wish there were a cure for AIDS.”

When I arrived at camp a week earlier, I had no idea what to expect. I had never worked at a residential camp or with children affected by HIV and AIDS before. After months of scouring the website and devouring anything I could get my hands on remotely pertaining to the disease, I found myself surrounded by a blur of nameless faces, unloading boxes and prying open rusty cots, unsure of what awaited me.

As soon as staff training began the next morning, it immediately became clear that I had been flung into an amazing, unique community. As cheers of “Olé" resounded through the dining hall and we tied ourselves into human knots, whacked balloons at each other, and worked our way through the staff manual, I was amazed at the enthusiasm and openness of all the staff. We came from all over the country, from Nebraska to Nevada to New York City, and yet we were pushed close together by a fierce commitment and love for the children. The energy and warmth was overwhelming and contagious.

My days were full of paintbrushes and lanyard string, shampoo and silly camp songs. As Arts and Crafts Director, I got to know all the campers, as well as work more closely with the youngest girls, leading devotionals, helping them settle into bed, and searching for missing toothbrushes and nametags. I also gained valuable experience wiping tables and instructing pinecone bowling. I was usually the last to bed and missed a few meals trying to satisfy the competing demands on my time, but the campers’ bright smiles and excitement made my twitching eyes and an empty stomach more than worthwhile.

The campers never ceased to amaze me. It was incredible to watch the entire camp embrace and engage a handicapped camper, joking around and starting spontaneous water balloon fights with him, and feverishly cheering him on as he mounted a horse for the first time. The campers were usually extremely kind and supportive of each other. The eldest girls cabin spent an entire hour of arts and crafts hunting down elusive alphabet beads for bracelets for their “little sisters,” and by the third day of camp every inch of the wall was covered with “high fives.”

What was most meaningful to me, though, was witnessing how transformative the week was for so many of the children. One camper stood out right away. He towered above the rest, scowling. “I don’t want to be here,” he told us flatly when he arrived, staring at his feet. Within a few days, however, he became a strong leader and motivator in his cabin, and stole the show at the cabin lip-synch in a purple sequined costume. On the final night, he and many others told us tearfully how camp had made a huge difference in their lives. It was immensely encouraging to see such tangible growth and the huge impact that just a week of silliness and fun and love made, and it was such a blessing to get to be a small part of it, filling paint cups and tossing pinecones.

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author notes:

i just got back from my fourth year as arts and crafts director at the california session.

camp kindle is a major program of project kindle, a non-profit organization that serves children impacted by hiv/aids in the west and midwest with free camp sessions throughout the year and a speaker bureau that equips these children to use their story to educate others and tear down misconceptions about the disease. it really is an amazing place.
http://www.projectkindle.org

and it was all started by eva payne when she was just 19 years old. she's absolutely incredible. ♥