As Faith and Light's Charter says: "Friendship deepens when we give ourselves time to be together." For nearly forty years now, the various Faith and Light communities in the Rome area have organized summer and winter camps where people from different communities—young people with or without their parents, friends sometimes with their own children—live together for a short stretch of time, seven to nine days of life in community.
Everyone gathers around a theme that shapes the days through ritual moments of encounter in the morning and evening (the circle, that geometric place where everyone meets as equals) and accompanies the community's brief journey in celebration and prayer. Often the camps interact with the local area, integrating camp members into the activities of the wider human family around them, often bearing witness to the Gospel.
That's the theory. But we'd also like you to feel the color, the fragrance, and the joyful noise of these camps. The images, emotions, phrases, adventures, quarrels, fears, excitement, long nights, jokes, walks. And the stories. So many stories—small adventures, moments, lived experiences. Some we've lived ourselves; others we've heard and taken as our own. All of us who spend part of our vacation at camp. It would take an enormous article. It would take a book. It would take—doing a camp together!
While we wait to do that, we've gathered some voices that speak about camp. Spontaneous voices, eager to tell their stories, and words from old issues of Shadows and Light that we wanted to dust off and read again. It's hard to choose from so much richness, a sign of how deeply this experience speaks to our hearts.
A mother and the village doctor. Called to camp to check on a child with a high fever, he saw the others—handicapped and not—deep in a fierce treasure hunt. He asked: "Tell me, madam, how much do you pay these assistants per day?" I corrected him, indignant: "The friends come to spend a vacation, and everyone pays their own share!" The doctor, skeptical, began to descend the stairs. "They pay to come do this service? And the cooking—do you have professional cooks?" "No, we all take turns with everything." I can still see him sit down on the step. "This is unbelievable!" And he kept repeating as he left: "They pay to come here…" — (M. B.)
A mother. One day someone asked if I wanted to send my son to a stay—they called it a camp—with some young people. Then a girl came to see me and asked how my son lived, how he ate, how he slept, how he was with others. The thing is, she picked him up and held him in a way… I was talking, but I could see that in that moment what mattered to her was my son. Just watching her, I felt something inside shift: "So he has value, not just in my eyes!" I'd been afraid others wouldn't understand what this son means to me. She understood. The way she held him—like he was a treasure. — (R.O.)
A friend, age 9. Camp is something everyone does together, where you play, go to Mass, have fun, swim, eat together, do shows and activities. You sleep together. It's like a life, just a few days, but together. Like being a big family. Where you help others, you learn, you meet new people. You eat special things.
A brother. Through my sister we found Faith and Light, and after a couple of years came our first camp. I didn't mind going. There were other people like my sister, and I was happy about that. Finally, a real vacation! I even slept in a tent, and no one complained about my sister. They'd come for that very reason. I was on vacation but felt like I was home. I felt protected from those bewildered or startled looks people gave her out in the world.
A young man with autism writes about his most recent camp in Cyprus.
I'm telling you that for me, this was truly a beautiful summer and I was out having fun the whole time.
I went to the sea a lot with my friends and we had a good time and we also took walks and saw new places and I had so much fun.
I was really happy because for me it was the real journey.
A journey like a grown-up with friends and I could do what I wanted and I felt free and independent I was truly happy about this beautiful journey.
edited by Valentina, Barbara, and Elisabetta, Rome - Kimata