Then There Was You(20)

Chris had plopped down on the sofa across from me, and his jovial spirit waned. “Eh, pretty much everything sucks right now. I still haven’t heard from Kaitlyn.”

I shook my head. “I’m so sorry. I know that must be tough… never knowing.”

Looking down at the floor, he mumbled, “Yeah, it sucks. Big time. I wish she’d just write me back so I knew what to do… if I should just give up on her.”

I understood hopelessness more than I was willing to admit anyone, but I couldn’t help the trite remark. Despite my own misery, I wanted to give these kids some hope. “You should never give up. Life’s circumstances may keep you apart right now, but never give up.”

“I won’t. It’s just hard sometimes.”

“I know it is. Just hang in there,” I encouraged him as I stood up and walked back toward my desk. “Now, I’ve been doing some thinking… I feel like you need some sort of outlet. With all the letters you’ve been writing without response, I thought you might need something to help you process all your thoughts.”

I pulled a leather bound journal with gilt-edged paper out of my desk drawer. “I want to give this to you, to take back with you to your bunk. I want you write in it every day. You can write anything, from what you ate each day to your innermost thoughts. I want you to bring it back with you to each session. The pages you want me to read, leave them be. The pages you don’t want me to read, fold in half. She’s all yours,” I said with a smile as I handed him the journal. I’d already decided that if this journaling idea worked with Chris, I was going to try it with the other guys too.

“Wow, really?” Chris looked at me excitedly as if I’d handed him a million dollars. “Thank you, Mrs. Honeycutt,” he said, looking down and fanning the pages as if he were shuffling a deck of cards. As the last page left his thumb, he snapped his eyes up, fixing his gaze on me. “This really means a lot to me.”

Little did he know just how much his weekly sessions meant to me. It was kids like him that got me up every day and kept me moving forward. It would have been so easy to give up—so easy to stay in bed and forget the world. Just knowing the impact I was having on their lives kept me grounded. Chris and the rest of the boys constantly pulled me back into reality.

I appreciated what this moment signified. The cold indifferent guy who’d walked into my office a mere few weeks ago was finally breaking down those barriers. I’d finally broken through that thick wall and made some progress with him.

“I’ll write in it tonight, I promise.” He gave me that sweet, quirky smile that I’d grown to love in my own right.





During the next session I was eager to see if Chris had kept his promise.

“Did you bring your journal with you today, Chris?”

“Yes ma’am,” Chris said, smiling as he plopped down on the sofa in front of me.

“Great, can I take a look?”

“Definitely.”

I opened the journal to the first page.





“Well, that was… colorful…” I said.

“It’s true, Mrs. Honeycutt. Besides you, everything about this place fu… um… sucks. Sorry.” He glanced down, embarrassed.

I smiled, knowing I’d caught myself a few time before too. But I wanted him to know he could be himself with me. “It’s okay, Chris. Feel free to be yourself in here. My office is your safe place. If you feel like cussing, let ‘er rip.”

Chris smiled. “You’re funny, Mrs. H, but I’m just trying to be respectful.”

“Thank you, Chris. That’s very nice of you.” One thing I’d learned is if you gave these kids real respect then they whole heartedly respected you back. Just knowing that Chris respected me enough now to watch his mouth around me spoke volumes.

He glanced at the journal. “I feel weird even letting you read my cuss words, but like you said, it’s my journal. They’re my thoughts.”

“Thank you for sharing them with me. I see you have a few folded pages. That’s great. Shows me that you’re digging deep with some personal stuff. I like that.” I flipped through the folded pages, wondering what deep thoughts he’d been having and if the journal had help him sort them out at all.

Chris flashed a bright smile. “Maybe I’ll let you read them someday… maybe.”

I nodded. “I’d like that very much. But, if that day never comes, I’m okay with that, too. Just keep writing. Never stop writing.”

“I’ve got a few lyrics in there too. Some sad stuff. You could say I have some inspiration.”