A Bond for a Lifetime Anonymous

My clammy hands trembled as I prepared to meet my camper for my very first day as a volunteer at Muscular Dystrophy Association summer camp. I had no idea how to instantly connect with him, but as Sebastian raced towards me in his Formula red wheelchair, he made the connection - with my foot. Shaking off the pain, I witnessed Sebastian’s boundless energy as he raced around the campgrounds, affably calling me “lazy” as I hobbled to catch up to him. As we maneuvered through the activities that week, my camper propagated that excitement, that enthusiasm to other people in a way that I admired and respected, and I matched his vitality with all my heart.

However, even in paradise we experienced tragedy. 10 P.M. My camper broke into tears, from frustration, from homesickness, and from the gnarled, metallic bedsprings that thwarted his sleep. I had never before felt the pressure of being responsible for a child’s life, and as my desperation increased, a familiar friend that I had haphazardly shoved into my backpack rescued me. Relying on pure instinct, I opened to the first page of my childhood Garfield comic book, and I began reading. Eyes still soaked from crying, my camper’s lips creaked into a little smile from Garfield’s silly...