A slight summer breeze cools my skin as I am walking up the hill. The sun disappears and reappears behind tufts of cloud. The campers are talking and laughing together about all the fun they had while they were at the lake. Except one. She begins to lag behind the group on our way to the bunk, just shuffling her feet half-heartedly. I fall back with her so that she is not left behind, thinking that she is simply tired from all the activity.
As we walk up to the porch, I notice a single tear falling down her face.
"What's wrong, Destiny?" I ask, concerned.
She pauses at the edge. "I don't wanna talk about it. 'Specially not with everyone else around."
I turn to the other girls and tell them to meet up with the other counselor inside the cabin.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I'm more than willing to listen," I say encouragingly.
She sits down on the porch, shaking ever so slightly. "I don't wanna go back."
"Go back where?"
"Home. I don't like it there."
"Why don't you like home?"
She slowly lifts her head, her eyes welling with tears, "My parents don't care about me. They just use me however they can," she says, her voice choking up with emotion. Her voice cracks as she begins to cry, "They don't care about me. All they care about is they drugs. They've made me push 'em for a long time. I don't like it at all." She hesitates before going further, "They've even tried to sell me for 'em."
For a moment I am shocked into silence. I reach my arms around her shoulders and bring her to me.
"Oh, Destiny, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." I lay her head on my shoulder as she continues to sob. "I love you so much, Destiny. I may have only known you for a few days, but that does diminish how much I love you." I gently pull her out of the embrace. "You know what else?" I ask her.
Her much-too-old-looking eyes gaze up at me, "What?"
"God loves you even more than I do. God loves your beautiful face, your spunky personality, He loves you more than anyone on Earth can love you. He doesn't want you to be treated this way. And He has such great plans for you." I pull her back into a tight hug.
More tears fall down her face and onto my shoulder.
My eyes begin to water. We rock back and forth, hugging and crying together. But the tears of sadness are beginning to mingle with tears of thankfulness and relief.
"I love you, Destiny," I say through the emotions.
"I love you too, Miss Amanda," she manages to say. "Thank you...thank you." Her arms squeeze tighter around me.
This particular memory is extremely powerful for me. Hearing Destiny's story was a real eye-opener. I had grown up in a good Christian household, and I had lived a somewhat sheltered life from the evils of the world. I became a counselor at my church's summer camp after my sophomore year of high school because I felt called there, but I wasn't entirely sure why. However, after this I knew that I was supposed to me there for Destiny. Her parents had never told her that they loved her--if they ever did, it would have been a painful lie--nor had anyone really showed her God's love and Word. This experience not only made me appreciate my family, but also appreciate God's power. After my fellow counselor and I prayed with her, she wanted to dedicate her life to Christ. Even now, I am practically speechless. I cannot ever fully understand or express my gratitude for God using me for the betterment of another person's life.
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