We lined up at the door. Boys on the right, girls on the left. Miss Harvey announced that Bobby’s parents wanted to dedicate a tree for him. He was in our class before he died. One day he threw up, his mother took him home, and he never returned. On this spring day we gathered at the newly planted sapling near the playground. Bobby’s parents stood side by side, heads bowed. Our principal spoke. The class was quiet, even the boys who usually misbehaved. Leaves on the small tree rustled in the breeze. Two lines filed back into the school.
Lois Villemaire writes poetry and memoir. She is inspired by researching family history and life experiences. She lives in historic Annapolis, MD. Find Lois on Twitter @Loisville and on Instagram @loisdale.