Personal Narrative: Camp Barnabas

Retarded, Whacko, Dummy, Cripple, Psycho. According to my mother’s doctor, it was my destiny to be called one of those names by the bullies of my school. After running multiple tests while she was pregnant, the results showed that I was more than likely to be born with Down Syndrome, and be partially paralyzed. The doctors suggested an abortion as one of the options for my mother, but she decided to take a risk and furiously refused. As a result, I was born on June 3, 1998, weighing in at a healthy 8 pounds, and miraculously had no physical or mental disabilities whatsoever. I always knew that I was blessed to have been born a “normal” boy, however, it was not until I visited Camp Barnabas that I began to live my life with more gratitude, and not take the basic elements of life for granted.
Camp Barnabas is a camp in Purdy, Missouri dedicated to kids ages 7-15 with any type of physical or mental disabilities. I went with my church’s youth group the summer after my sophomore year of high school. My job when I arrived was to care for a camper the whole week, whether it was brushing his teeth, helping him put his clothes on, use the restroom, participate in the activities planned, and other important daily tasks. When the day of

camper arrival came, I was anxious to meet my camper and get started. My camper was a 14 year old boy from St. Louis named Mitchell. Mitchell was low-maintenance, needing only help with getting dressed in the morning, as well as having somebody by his side in the event that he fell down while walking with his cane.
Despite my camper not needing help with much, I saw how difficult it was for him to walk, play sports, and other movements that people without disabilities take for granted. Afterward, while taking care of Mitchell, I met another camper named Ty, a 14 year old boy in a wheelchair who had severe cerebral palsy and complete paralysis of his body. Despite not being able to do anything besides breathe, eat, and barely talk, he always had a smile on his face, and looked happier than I had ever been in my entire life. While interacting with Ty, a question came to mind: How can somebody with so little going in their favor have so much joy and happiness? It was a question that would go on to stump me the rest of the week. As the week went on, I saw Ty and Mitchell’s excitement increase as we went swimming, camping, watched skits, and more. Before I knew it, a whole week of activities had passed and it was time for us to go home. I fought back tears as I said goodbye to Mitchell and Ty. I met with the rest of my church group and we got on the charter bus to Topeka. During the five-hour ride home, I thought back to the question I had earlier. I finally realized that there was not an answer to my question, but that I should be asking myself a different question: Why do I not have that much joy in my life when I have so much going for me?
Ultimately, I was a changed person when I returned home.

The second I walked into my house, it was as if a blindfold had been removed from my eyes. I came to the realization that I was the luckiest kid in the world to have working legs, arms, and brain. I realized that I had the capability to get up and run, play sports, or drive my car to any destination I pleased and meet with friends. These were all privileges that campers like Ty and Mitchell were cheated out of at birth, and it very easily could have been me too. Every time I began to complain about minor inconveniences, I would think of Camp Barnabas, which made me think of Mitchell and Ty, and I would decide to save that complaint for another day when I encounter an actual

problem.