h　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　two　hundred　of　my　new　friends。　The　campers　eagerly　participated。　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　all　right。　I　just　don’t　really　get　into　this　stuff。”　As　I　left　the　cafeteria；　I　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