The Trees are Crying

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I did not know Cole very well. I changed his name for this discussion. Something made me think of him today. I volunteered at my kid's school many years ago. I sat in the hall with different kids and helped them with spelling and writing. I would write the words with dots and have them trace over them while saying the letters. Sometimes, I helped Cole. One day, the nurse called and said there was a tragedy at school. Cole had taken his own life. I got to the school and all was chaos with kids lined up in the halls and counselors coming in. I never forgot Cole. I thought of him often over the years. When school was done for the summer, my child brought in a school "magazine." Each child in the class had something published in it. Cole wrote a poem called "The Trees Are Crying." I wish someone had known that he was the one crying. I often wonder if I could have made a difference.