The other day, I was going thru some loose paperwork that I had in the office and I came across a copy of the Frost poem Birches that I printed out for a friend who had lost a loved one. I printed this out and never gave it to her. I’ve read it a few times over the past year, and here I was, sorting out a shredding pile when I found it. I handed it to one of my clients who has recently gotten his GED.
He went out into the other room to read it. Then he came back and thanked me for giving it to him. When I went thru the other room to go into my office later, he was sitting there reading it again, writing things in the margins. He stopped me and told me that he had lost loved ones in an ice storm a while back, and he really felt that this poem spoke to that experience. I was taken aback. He carries that poem with him now, and I am happy to have supplied it.