Growing up I had a cousin named Carolyn, who was just three months younger than me. She was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome, a mild form of Autism. She had a lot of difficulty in school, making friends and staying out of trouble. Both of these things impacted her learning. She changed schools a lot and she was just always looking for her place in the world.
When I was a senior in high school, my youth group planned a trip to Nashville, TN to go to Catholic Heart Work Camp. My mom suggested that Carolyn drive down from Saint Louis, Missouri to go to camp with my youth group in Memphis. I hesitated selfishly as I weighed the options and what it would cost me personally. I agreed that it would be an excellent opportunity for her, and she ended up coming.
On the three hour bus ride, Carolyn had already started to make friends with other people in my youth group. By the time the camp started, she was fully involved in the camp.
From the opening song at the first program, when she was allowed (and encouraged!) to be silly and get into it, she found her niche. CHWC was a perfect catalyst for her to find a way to be herself and be accepted. She did work projects and helped others in a way she never would have been able to do without the CHWC setting. More importantly she built relationships with people who accepted her without question. She felt a connection with God that had never been present before.
Coincidently (or not so coincidently I guess) there was a youth group from Saint Louis that was at the same camp as us. The youth leader and several of the members of the youth group made an effort to welcome Carolyn and invite her to join them at their weekly youth group events. When school started again, her mom drove her 30 minutes away to go to the youth group events at that church. Like everyone else, her mom noticed a change that had taken place in Carolyn and wanted to allow her to build those relationships.
I always knew that Carolyn had been heavily impacted by the experience at Catholic Heart. Years later we were sitting at her kitchen counter just chit-chatting. She was telling me about a tattoo her friend was thinking about getting. I asked her if she had any new tattoos she hadn’t told me about. Then she showed me the “Shift 2 Degrees” symbol she had gotten tattooed on her side. It wasn’t a large area that was inked, but it spoke volumes to me.
It was then that I realized that sometimes it truly only takes 2 Degrees.
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