SEPTEMBER 12, 2007

Dear Friends,

Next month, it is likely that I will return to my usual habit of reminding you of the great needs of children by the millions who suffer the consequences of being born to a world reeling in a stupor brought on by the consumption of brutal brew: foolish, selfish, judgmental or evil choices.

Today, however, I mean to invite you to a very hopeful reality, to a small slice of the earth where for one week, 300 people gathered to provide HIV/AIDS infected and affected children a taste of what can prevail when love gets a hammerlock on our weary world.

Picture a camp situated on a lake’s edge with western-themed buildings nestled under enormous evergreens. Put in this setting the 300 people I’ve mentioned: sick parents, sick children, siblings of sick kids, counselors, doctors of various sorts, activities directors, camp wranglers, cooks, nutritionists, transportation volunteers, REACH staff and you have the makings of joy. You have one of the many events we of REACH work toward all year, every year. You have REACH Camp.

Picture Jason, an 8-year-old who said he loves camp because he loves boating and that it is one big family. Listen to 16-year-old Emilie who folded in half with impulsive laughter when she saw her buddy Loren from the inner city of Seattle mount a horse only to fall off the other side. Imagine her delight when she learned that her camp counselor will be her mentor, walking by her side throughout the year.

The talent show was jammed with crazy antics, the beat of a poet, to Isaiah's diverse and unique guitar playing as he presented a blend of flamenco that captured the awesome energy of camp. At Club Med, the lines were long as minor injuries were treated, potent medicines dispensed and advice given on new drugs and treatments. Seasoned campers warmly received Dr. Fairchok and six new families. Picture all this and you have us – REACH, we who watch the work of love and marvel at its power.

In all honesty, you have us weary and worn thin by the great privilege of providing a place and a time when a small number of the world’s suffering children can be relieved of the fears associated with their disease.

This letter then is to say "Thank you" to those of you who have made this slice of time, this experience of goodness possible by your faithful support. Now, we at REACH take a deep breath, rest for only a moment, then return to our daily work of mentoring families, developing and delivering educational tools, of participating in our community’s efforts to stem the effects of a harsh world on children.

Your Servant,

Susan K. Slonaker