“Has Anyone Considered My Child Has a Soul?”

        Fifty years ago, I drove onto the campgrounds of Children’s Bible Fellowship in New York State. My assignment? Serve as a counselor to the disabled. There was a lot at stake other than just doing this task well. You see, I’d already written the mission organization expressing my desire to serve with them full-time.

        Their initial requirement: Apply to counsel at Camp Hope for the summer, and they’d see if I was a “good fit” for openings at Hopetown—their on-grounds resident school where kids and teens lived year-round.

        This ministry grew as a result of a parents-of-disabled-children’s meeting held in New York City years prior. Attendees asked numerous questions and offered suggestions, wishing to improve their disabled children’s lives physically, emotionally, and mentally.

        Then a Jewish father stood and asked, “Has anyone considered my child has a soul?”

        This was the “seed” that planted a vision in the heart of the mission’s founder. And from that grew Camp Hope and later Hopetown.

        I’d desired to work with the disabled for years prior to this summer, grasping opportunities throughout high school and college, to better equip me for whatever God had in store.

        Unbeknownst to me, the director of Hopetown, who also worked in the camping program, planned to assign the most challenging campers to me—a test of sorts. I didn’t see it that way at the time. I just looked forward to the experience and settled in for the summer.

        After orientation, the first session of campers arrived. Assigned to me? Inez—a petite, pretty-as-a-princess child. Yet her face lacked expression, and she constantly ground her teeth. Inez was autistic and required a 1-on-1 counselor for her 2-week stay.

        I didn’t know a lot about autism. I tried my best, but something within me ached. After all, this was a Christian camp, and our goal was to share the Good News of Jesus Christ. How could I reach a little girl who seemed so distant?

        But during orientation the mission’s founder had shared with us about that meeting he attended eons ago—when the question was put forth: “Has anyone considered my child has a soul?” He also imparted another truth. A body and/or mind may be disabled, but the soul/spirit cannot be. Then he told us an amazing account—

        A certain non-verbal boy attended Camp Hope some years before. He’d not spoken his whole life.

        When he returned home, his parents talked with him about his time at camp—like always but never expecting answers. Still, they loved him and communicated.

        “Did you have fun at camp?”

        No response.

        “You must’ve enjoyed time with the other campers.”

        Silence.

        “What did you learn at camp?”

        “Jesus loves me this I know,” the boy said, “for the Bible tells me so.”

        Reader, can you imagine the expression on these parents’ faces? The utter surprise? The tears of joy? They couldn’t wait to share this news with the mission’s founder, and he joyed each time he shared this account with incoming summer staff.       

        Since God conveyed His Love to that boy, might my camper experience the same? Can she actually grasp that Jesus loves her? Will I be able to help her understand?

        I showed my camper pictures and told her about Jesus in simple words, but she remained expressionless. I didn’t have a clue if anything broke through to her. So, I prayed.

        A couple days passed with no evidence…

        …until one day when I was pushing her on the swing. She seemed to love the back-and-forth motion of that activity, so we did that a lot.

        As I gave her that swing ride, I wondered if Inez might be from a Spanish-speaking home. (This info would’ve been in her camper profile, but somehow I missed that detail.) After all, a number of campers were from ethnically diverse backgrounds.

        What if I communicate with her in Spanish! I only knew a few words in that language, and I wasn’t even sure I pronounced them correctly. I tried saying a few things to her, but she remained emotionless, grinding her teeth.

        Then an eighteen-year-old memory popped into my head—one from when I was Inez’s age.

        My mother was a patient at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital in New York City. Several times Dad took my sister and I to see Mom, except we couldn’t visit her at all. Only Dad was permitted into her room. So, we girls waited nearby.

        Two precious nurses kept us company during those visits and taught us a hymn and Jesus Loves Me… 

        …in Spanish!

        And we never forgot it.

        Now, here I was, gently pushing Inez on the swing. “Si, Cristo me ama,” I sang, and…

        She smiled! Not just a bit. Nope. I’m talkin’ big toothy-grin!

        I gasped. “Oh, Inez! You have a beautiful smile!”

        And my camper stared blankly.

        Then I sang again, and she smile brightly!

        I was amazed and stopped to thank God for this breakthrough, and Inez’s smile left. I sang again, and her smiled returned!

        In a very real sense, we sang Cristo Me Ama together the rest of her time at camp. And I hoped and prayed Inez’s spirit would continue singing when she went home.

        In reflecting on this 50-year-old memory, I remain astonished by the Savior—this infinite God—Who created the world, Who listens to and answers when we pray, Who bent down and whispered to these 2 dear non-verbal campers!

        The world may overlook some children at times, thinking them hopeless.

        But God tells them, “I love you.” And He wrote a Book to prove it because He wanted them to know.

        Reader, do you know a special needs child who seems distant? May you share God’s Love with that precious one who needs to know…

        …“Jesus loves me, this I know. For the Bible tells me so.” 

Jesus Loves Me ~ Cristo Me Ama

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JsO5ThjGS-0&list=RDJsO5ThjGS-0&start_radio=1

(original English version from hymn/story by Anna Bartlett Warner, 1859, public domain)

 

P.S. ~ At the close of that 1^st summer, I was accepted by CBF as a houseparent and cared for 17 (not all at once) kids/teens over the 3 years I served in that capacity. A “bonus” was meeting my husband at Hopetown. We served with CBF until 1989, at which time God led us to BCM International, Inc. ~ Bible Centered Ministries ~ where we’ve ministered since.

 

#counselor #CampHope #Hopetown #disabled #autism #specialneeds #JesusLovesMe #Spanish #CristoMeAma

Photo Credit:

girl in swing—depositphotos.com, sign—teacherspayteachers.com

Parents’ conversation with non-verbal boy camper is not verbatim.