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For Boles, now 15, that isolation ended three years ago. Slowly, she found community, following virtual signposts directing her first from the Ìýto a monthly Zoom chat to, unbelievably at the time, ziplining through Algonquin Park with dozens of other kids with arthritis.Ìý

Because of her condition, Boles never gave summer camp much thought. She felt she would be “left out” if she tried to go. Not so at , where staff are knowledgeable about rheumatic diseases, infrastructure is in place to mitigate the challenges they pose, and they’re always on the hunt for new adaptive equipment.Ìý

The camp has a fleet of golf carts to ferry kids around, thus avoiding muscle and joint strain and preserving their strength for canoeing, archery or ziplining. Days start early, but plenty of time is baked into the schedule to recharge after activities. At night, the whole camp comes together to play Jeopardy, watch a movie or do arts and crafts.Ìý

“Camp is such a special place,” said Boles. “It’s what I look forward to the most, out of all the days in the year. It gives me a chance to connect with other people who are like me, who won’t judge me and who understand. That’s hard to find in this world. I never meet anyone else with arthritis, except when I go to camp.”

Boles’ favourite thing to do at camp is paddleboarding — water activities are easier on her joints. But even if Camp Ontario didn’t have access to beautiful Algonquin amenities, it’d still be the highlight of her year, just for the company she gets to keep.Ìý

“To me, it doesn’t really matter what we’re doing, as long as I can do it with them,” she said.

Camp Ontario volunteer Carly Fox sees kids like Boles every year, whose eyes light up once it sinks in that they are, for the first time, among people whose journeys mirror their own.ÌýÌý

“For those first-year campers, no matter what age they are, the second they get there and see all these other kids with arthritis, you can see something turn on in their eyes, like a whole new life path just opened up,” said Fox. “It’s so rewarding to get to see that transformation.”

Fox was a camper herself once. A late diagnosis meant she only got to participate once before aging out when she turned 18. But those five days were enough to change her life.

“It completely changed the way I saw arthritis and I saw myself,” she said. “It’s what made me feel comfortable talking about arthritis and disability. I’m now a disability advocate for my job. After such a meaningful experience, I was so desperate to get back and give back to future campers and make them feel as included and empowered as I did.”

Boles, who will be 18 in three years, said she may follow Fox into volunteering for similar reasons. That’d be on top of her future day job, writing regency-era romances like “Pride and Prejudice,” she said.Ìý

“Don’t let arthritis define you,” said Boles. “Your love and your compassion, your dreams and your passions are the qualities that define you. That’s all that matters.”

Camp Ontario isn’t the only that brings together kids for an accessible, social experience.ÌýÌý

In May, the Star wrote about Campfire Circle, a camp for children with cancer and other serious illnesses. Like Boles and her friends, Campfire Circle offered a young man named Kadin, who lives with the cancer that killed Terry Fox, rare opportunities to connect with people who have similar experiences to him.Ìý

In interviews with campers, counsellors and parents, it was clear that the most significant benefit these programs offer is community. A friendship with someone who understands you on a level no one has before is priceless.Ìý

Another gift these camps give is confidence. Learning what your body is capable of with the right accommodations and support is inspiring. Campers, the Star was told, often return emboldened after accomplishing things they never would have thought possible.Ìý

The money from donations helps more kids benefit from a camp experience. Every dollar counts.