The Campfire of Many Colors
A few years ago something happened to me that changed me. I was asked to help out with the logistics of organizing dinner, camping space, public appearances, and other needs for a bus load of teenagers who were touring the United States. These teens came from many different countries, and they all had what would be called a handicap by most of us. The purpose of this tour was to share and learn about how these handicaps are dealt with in different societies and locations.
Most things went wrong with our plans. The bus was extremely late, the food didn't work as planned, the kids were tired and cranky, and things just didn't seem to go right. The bus, expected at 5:00, didn't pull into town until 9:00 or so. The dinner we had planned turned out to be difficult to prepare and took a long long time to serve. The kids had to set up their tents after dark, and due to their exhaustion the set up didn't go smoothly at all. Finally dinner and camp set up was done...and then..the magic happened.
We built a campfire. The teens from the bus, their helpers and chaperones, and the local people who were helping gathered around the fire. The fire glinted off faces of different colors and off faces with various disfigurements. We sat for a few moments and watched the fire, wound down from the hecticness of the earlier evening. And people began to speak. As each person stood to speak, there was motion and a murmur from around the fire. The speaker's words were being translated around the fire so all of us could hear. The deaf people were watching their translaters turn the words into motions. The ones who didn't speak english were listening as the english words were turned into words from their lands. All around the fire people from different places and with different handicaps (because we all have them) were communicating. And it was beautiful. Suddenly the faces were all beautiful. The boy from Kenya who had a skin disease and had white blotches all over his face listened intently as the girl from Sweden with no arms talked about how she felt being there. The boy with Down's syndrome told us how pretty the fire was, and we all agreed with tears in our eyes.
For me, however, the best was yet to come. We made s'mores. A group of boy scouts had come up and cut willow sticks so each of the people there could cook marshmallows over the fire and experience the wonder of a truly well made s'more. The teenagers, in their wheelchairs and with their various missing limbs moved closer to the fire. The concept was explained to them and they were each given a stick. And my son...my three year old son...was given the important task of circulating with the bag of marshmallows and helping these teens thread the marshmallows on the sticks. Watching my child move from person to person, watching his natural ability to accept each of those people exactly as they were, watching the joy and wonderment that they had with his bright red hair...those things will stay in my heart and memory forever. My son knew something that the rest of us were having to work to relearn.