Then There Was You(42)

With each strum of his fingers, the heavenly sound floated from the guitar while he thanked me through his lyrics. I clutched myself tighter, willing the tears away. He caught my gaze, pinning me down with the emotions behind his words.



Would take a lifetime to find the right words to say,

How much I appreciate every little thing.

You picked up the pieces, restored my faith,

Picked up my hand and showed me the way.



His voice was crystal clear. Listening to his words, I knew the time Chris had left to serve at Fairbanks was limited. I wanted to cherish every last moment. The whole room listened intently, soaking in every note, every lyric. But this moment… this moment was mine—ours.

When he sang his last word and held onto the last note until its last decibel disappeared into thin air, not a single person breathed. Perfect stillness filled the room, and I knew there would never be another moment like this at Fairbanks.

“Thank you,” Chris whispered quietly to his audience.

Then, as if his words snapped us out of our entranced spell, the room erupted with applause. Shouts of “Wow!” and “Hell Yeah!” filled the air.

Chris caught my gaze once again. He silently mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

I nodded once, bringing my hands up to my face and covering my mouth. Tears continued to fall as I watched him high five and fist bump the guys sitting around him. This is what I live for—this moment right here. Chris King, the kid who supposedly had nothing going for him, shook me to my core with his beautiful soul.





A couple of very short weeks later, Chris bounded into my office. “Today’s the day, Mrs. Honeycutt!” He was a completely different kid than the first day I’d met him.

“I know,” I said. A hint of sorrow laced my voice. I swallowed back the lump that was already forming in my throat. Today’s the day…

He was leaving. He was walking out of my life and would probably never look back. This was the hardest part of my job—saying goodbye. Like breath in their lungs, these kids needed me while they were at Fairbanks, but the minute they walked out the door, I typically never saw them again. I was sure I crossed their minds from time to time, but they moved on with their lives as if I never existed while they left an imprint on my heart forever. I’d been dreading this day with Chris for weeks. I knew I’d made an impact on his life, and that’s all I could hope for. From this point forward, I would no longer be a joist in the architecture of Chris’s life. He would have to continue on without my support. And…

I’ll have to continue on without his.

For weeks, my heart had been drifting down slowly like a feather in the wind, knowing all along that this day would come. But as the final hour approached, it suddenly took a nosedive and smashed itself against the unforgiving ground.

Chris pumped his fist in the air with excitement. “Can you believe it, Mrs. Honeycutt? I’m gettin’ outta here. I’m going home.”

I just shook my head, unable to speak. Tears glossed over my eyes and I fought to hold them back. Willing my voice to cooperate, I spoke softly, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” he cheerfully replied, disguising the tone of wistfulness behind his voice.

He looked so happy. I felt guilty for showing my grief over losing him, but I couldn’t help it.

I swallowed back the lump that had already begun forming in my throat. “I’m excited for you, Chris. You have your whole life ahead of you. Just remember me when you get rich and famous.” I winked, using any tactic to disguise my anguish.

Smiling thoughtfully, he asked, “How could I ever forget you?”

I nearly strangled on the feeling of dread of the inevitable, as the weight of it suffocated me. “I certainly hope you wouldn’t.”

“There’s no way,” he insisted, as we shared a moment between us—a moment of mutual respect and adoration.

I had to be honest with myself. Life moved on. Moments were fleeting. People forgot. As he watched me with warmth in his eyes, the hammering in my chest reminded me that while his mind may forget, his heart never would.

My voice cracked when I said, “You know, one of these days I’ll come and see you at one of your concerts.”

Nodding, he said eagerly, “If you do, I’ll give you front row seats.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I choked out. This guy changed my life. He made me realize how important my role is in the lives of these kids here at Fairbanks. There would never be another one like him.

Turning around, I grabbed the guitar from behind my desk. “Here,” I told Chris. “I want you to have this.” I held the guitar out for him in my trembling hands.