Viktor came in to camp like a lot of the kids… nervous. You could see bags under his eyes like he hadn’t slept the night before, he seemed a bit on edge and a little jumpy. Even though his family were members of the local church, HJC Subotica, and his sister was part of the local leadership team, he seemed as if he had never been in this building before. Viktor loosened a bit after some games, but once the camp dance music started, and he got me as a partner, he checked back out.
Viktor was exactly what I would picture for a kid hew grew up in a soviet block, Cold War country, but he was born a few decades too late and a bit further south. Skinny, blonde hair, blue eyes, stoic, straight faced, at times expressionless. Sarcasm, my go-to to break the ice, didn’t work on Viktor. I don’t know if it was the language barrier, or his serious take on life, but if asked a question with a bit of comedy he would shrug his shoulders, “of course”. When asked for him to show off his boxing skills, he would dismiss us with, “we’re not in the ring!”
In English class, he took the nickname “Victory Viktor” which became so much more than a nickname over the week of camp. Victory Victor because who he was. Day by day he started coming out of his shell. His English was still slow, but man, could he communicate with a look, just the raise of an eyebrow would have us all rolling. He picked up sports with us, jumped into games, and even in the camp dance. But on our last night, he blew us all away.
On the last day of camp, it started to hit him that we camp was ending and we would all be returning home. Viktor would stop me in a gave of keep away (most kids favorite way to connect) to say “thank you” he couldn’t say what for, but he could say “thank you”. I would respond the best I could, give him a hug and try to get back to the game, but he would stop again… “thank you”. I would thank him back, and again he would say “thank you”. Not wanting to go back to the game, but just stood close and said “thank you”
We wrapped camp with our talent show night. Inviting the campers parents into the church to see what their kids could do and how much we and the local church cared for them. So many of our campers had some REAL skills, poetry, piano, singing, ballet. When Viktor got up I thought he would show off his boxing skills, FINALLY. But first, he brought up a translator. Team member by team member, he would state our name and tell us how grateful he was for us traveling to meet him, to spend time with him, and care for him. He was holding back tears, but we couldn’t. Then he handed back the microphone and left stage. No boxing, just gratitude, a talent in itself.
OF COURSE, Viktor got the only perfect score of the show and won the prized American flag cowboy hat. We had a camp follow up and church service the next couple days, making the goodbyes even longer and harder. Victory Viktor never took the hat off.
This week I learned how to share my gratitude for the people I care about with them, face to face, when it means the most. It’s a talent I have yet to get good at, but one I will start training for.
Viktor was exactly what I would picture for a kid hew grew up in a soviet block, Cold War country, but he was born a few decades too late and a bit further south. Skinny, blonde hair, blue eyes, stoic, straight faced, at times expressionless. Sarcasm, my go-to to break the ice, didn’t work on Viktor. I don’t know if it was the language barrier, or his serious take on life, but if asked a question with a bit of comedy he would shrug his shoulders, “of course”. When asked for him to show off his boxing skills, he would dismiss us with, “we’re not in the ring!”
In English class, he took the nickname “Victory Viktor” which became so much more than a nickname over the week of camp. Victory Victor because who he was. Day by day he started coming out of his shell. His English was still slow, but man, could he communicate with a look, just the raise of an eyebrow would have us all rolling. He picked up sports with us, jumped into games, and even in the camp dance. But on our last night, he blew us all away.
On the last day of camp, it started to hit him that we camp was ending and we would all be returning home. Viktor would stop me in a gave of keep away (most kids favorite way to connect) to say “thank you” he couldn’t say what for, but he could say “thank you”. I would respond the best I could, give him a hug and try to get back to the game, but he would stop again… “thank you”. I would thank him back, and again he would say “thank you”. Not wanting to go back to the game, but just stood close and said “thank you”
We wrapped camp with our talent show night. Inviting the campers parents into the church to see what their kids could do and how much we and the local church cared for them. So many of our campers had some REAL skills, poetry, piano, singing, ballet. When Viktor got up I thought he would show off his boxing skills, FINALLY. But first, he brought up a translator. Team member by team member, he would state our name and tell us how grateful he was for us traveling to meet him, to spend time with him, and care for him. He was holding back tears, but we couldn’t. Then he handed back the microphone and left stage. No boxing, just gratitude, a talent in itself.
OF COURSE, Viktor got the only perfect score of the show and won the prized American flag cowboy hat. We had a camp follow up and church service the next couple days, making the goodbyes even longer and harder. Victory Viktor never took the hat off.
This week I learned how to share my gratitude for the people I care about with them, face to face, when it means the most. It’s a talent I have yet to get good at, but one I will start training for.
