Elly Shelburne
10/10/13
Pd. 2
Young Lives 2013
There are always those moments in life where you feel exactly where you're meant to be;
where you feel true joy in serving those who need love. This past summer, working with Young
Lives, I couldn't have felt more at home. The purpose of Young Lives is to provide a stress-free
week for inner-city teen moms at a beautiful camp. While they do different activities during the
week, we (the childcare workers) watch their babies for them. Initially signing up to be a
childcare worker, I was happy to serve, but I was not prepared in the least for the dense,
emotionally-packed week ahead that we all experienced. None of us expected to become so
attached to those precious little babies in a mere five days, but they stole all of our hearts by Day
Two.
I remember the first morning of their arrival; the toys were organized, schedules were
lined up, and we had all had plenty of coffee in advance. The sea of strollers came crowding
through the door of the nursery, and we were about as excited and nervous as the kids we were
about to watch. There were enough babies for each childcare worker to ‘claim’ their own to take
care of for the week, in a sense. Everyone had seemed to claim their own already; but then I saw
Danante. He was adorable; the tiniest baby in our nursery’s age category- only he was sniffling,
sobbing, and scared to death. Trying to pick him up was about as easy as catching a greased pig
and I sighed with initial dismay; it was going to be a very long week.
On the morning childcare of Day Two, I felt like I had been hit by a train, to say the least.
The chaos that a roomful of two-year-olds could bring was astounding, and we were all
exhausted. Danante’s flood of tears seemed endless, and it was extremely difficult to keep him
occupied. Discouragement and confusion began to settle in my heart, and my initial hope of
forming that special ‘baby bond’ faded throughout the long day. I felt as if there was nothing
more to do; he had seen every toy, ball, Playdoh set, and coloring page we had, yet he felt so
terrified without his mother that nothing else seemed to matter to him. But later that day, as the
strollers poured in once again for evening childcare, the night began to look more promising. The
routine crying lasted only a short time and Danante’s wide, curious eyes and tooth-checkered
smile appeared more and more with each passing hour as he tottled around the room, exploring
each shelf and toy bin to his heart’s content. The next night, after an evening of Playdoh and
stroller rides, he fell asleep in my arms while we were sitting outside. There under the stars, in
the stillness of the summer air, I soon began to realize what I had previously deemed unlikely:
Danante had grown very fond of me, and was unsettled and scared when I wasn’t by his side. I
realized as well, with his weary head cradled in my arm, that I had come to love him too.
As the week came to a close on Day Five of childcare, I realized that the next day the
buses would come to take the moms and babies home, and that tonight we would have to say our
goodbyes to these little, unique personalities we had come to love so much. Though it felt like
the week blew by, there was such a dense amount of emotion packed into that one week, and the
nostalgia of that place will never really fade. As I held Danante one last time and kissed his
forehead, I had to hold back tears knowing that he would become only a memory after that week.
No sobs to quell, no tears to dry, no hand to hold. He smiled one last time, as he and his mother
left the nursery.
Reflecting back on the week, I knew that the moms were impacted immensely. This camp
was a place where they could come as they were, let go of their cares and be themselves. They
knew that they were loved and accepted there, and the joy they were able to experience was
unlike any other they had ever felt. Their children weren’t any less affected; they probably had
one of the best weeks of their lives, considering that a few had to leave this beautiful camp and
return to the low incomes or homeless shelters they had become so accustomed to. With all these
thoughts heavy in my heart, waving goodbye to the buses the next morning was bittersweet. We
knew that some rough situations at home lay ahead for many of these teen moms and their
children, but we also knew that the hundreds of broken hearts that arrived at camp at the
beginning of the week got to leave knowing that they are accepted as who they are by God, and
that their lives are full of immense value and potential. But overall, I think that week impacted
the childcare workers just as much, if not more so, knowing that we were holding tiny creations
that were originally not ‘supposed’ to be. The most chaotic week of my life had, at the same
time, become the most peaceful. Cradling a tiny, drowsy baby in my arms under the stars, I felt
that I was exactly where I was meant to be that week. I will never forget sweet Danante; nor will
I forget the friendships, bonds, and countless memories that were made that week.