In the summer recess between freshman and sophomore years in college, I was
invited to be an instructor at a high school leadership camp hosted by a college
in Michigan. I was already highly involved in most campus activities, and I
jumped at the opportunity.
About an hour into the first day of camp, amid the frenzy of icebreakers and
forced interactions, I first noticed the boy under the tree. He was small and
skinny, and his obvious discomfort and shyness made him appear frail and
fragile. Only 50 feet away, 200 eager campers were bumping bodies, playing,
joking and meeting each other, but the boy under the tree seemed to want to be
anywhere other than where he was. The desperate loneliness he radiated almost
stopped me from approaching him, but I remembered the instructions from the
senior staff to stay alert for campers who might feel left out.
As I walked toward him I said, "Hi, my name is Kevin and I'm one of the
counsellors. It's nice to meet you. How are you?" In a shaky, sheepish voice he
reluctantly answered, "Okay, I guess." I calmly asked him if he wanted to join
the activities and meet some new people. He quietly replied, "No, this is not
really my thing."
I could sense that he was in a new world, that this whole experience was foreign
to him. But I somehow knew it wouldn't be right to push him, either. He didn't
need a pep talk, he needed a friend. After several silent moments, my first
interaction with the boy under the tree was over.
At lunch the next day, I found myself leading camp songs at the top of my lungs
for 200 of my new friends. The campers were eagerly participating. My gaze
wandered over the mass of noise and movement and was caught by the image of the
boy from under the tree, sitting alone, staring out the window. I nearly forgot
the words to the song I was supposed to be leading.
At my first opportunity, I tried again, with the same questions as before: "How
are you doing? Are you okay?" To which he again replied, "Yeah, I'm alright. I
just don't really get into this stuff". As I left the cafeteria, I too realized
this was going to take more time and effort than I had thought - if it was even
possible to get through to him at all.
That evening at our nightly staff meeting, I made my concerns about him known. I
explained to my fellow staff members my impression of him and asked them to pay
special attention and spend time with him when they could.
The days I spend at camp each year fly by faster than any others I have known.
Thus, before I knew it, mid-week had dissolved into the final night of camp and
I was chaperoning the "last dance". The students were doing all they could to
savor every last moment with their new "best friends" - friends they would
probably never see again.
In October of my sophomore year, a late-night phone call pulled me away from my
chemistry book. A soft-spoken, unfamiliar voice asked politely,
"Is Kevin there?"
"You're talking to him. Who's this?"
"This is Tom Johnson's mom. Do you remember Tommy from leadership camp? The boy
under the tree. How could I not remember?
"Yes, I do", I said. "He's a very nice young man. How is he?"
An abnormally long pause followed, then Mrs. Johnson said, "My Tommy was walking
home from school this week when he was hit by a car and killed." Shocked, I
offered my condolences.
"I just wanted to call you", she said, "because Tommy mentioned you so many
times. I wanted you to know that he went back to school this fall with
confidence. He made new friends. His grades went up. And he even went out on a
few dates. I just wanted to thank you for making a difference for Tom. The last
few months were the best few months of his life."
In that instant, I realized how easy it is to give a bit of yourself every day.
You may never know how much each gesture may mean to someone else. I tell this
story as often as I can, and when I do, I urge others to look out for their own
"boy under the tree."
Author unknown. If anyone has a proprietary interest in this story please
authenticate and I will be happy to credit, or remove, as the circumstances
dictate.
Thanks to HEARTWARMING
heartwarming-subscribe@onelist.com
The Illustrator: This daily newsletter is dedicated to encouraging
everyone to look towards Jesus as the source of all the solutions to our
problems. It contains a daily inspirational story, a Bible verse and encouraging
messages. HTML and plain text versions available.
The Nugget: Published three times a week, this newsletter features inspirational devotionals and mini-sermons dedicated to drawing mankind closer to each other and to Christ.