One day this summer, I found I had a plane ticket in my hand. It was time, I realized, to go to Minnesota. I was going there to attend a program called YTM—short for Youth in Theology and Ministry—at St. John’s University. Every day while I was there I learned about theology and did service trips for kids from Somalia at the university’s St. Cloud Center. I had to bring money just in case of emergencies so I brought with me $180. Every day was great until the second to last day. I came to my room to discover that my $180 had disappeared. I was angry, shocked, and disappointed.

“How could I get stolen from at a God camp?” I thought to myself.

I looked at Jesus and said, “How could this happen?”

I was so angry the following day, I did not go to the closing ceremony. At least half of it. I sat in my room just thinking about how someone stole from me. Then the camp counselors came with the security police and asked me questions. I never saw the security team again. I began to just realize that the money was gone, so I headed down to the lake on campus and just swam around with the fish and the turtles.

When I got out of the lake, the camp’s student leader, Donelle, approached me. She started to apologize for the incident that happened and handed me $130. “It was from all the counselors and every single one of them agreed to help you because you are such a nice kid,” she said.

I couldn’t believe it because I didn’t even talk to some of the counselors. They saw me in need and decided to help me. Two of the other campers also helped me out and gave me $60. I felt like that moment was the entire point of the camp. To love one another.