Blossoms on a Withered Tree

Kevin Costa, Bellingham, WA

For nearly thirty years I worked as a speech-language pathologist in public schools, much of that time in classrooms serving students with moderate to severe disabilities. Many of these children were described in deficit language: delayed, limited, impaired.

The tree looked withered.

We created structure: predictable routines, shared attention, turn-taking. Language slowed. Teachers, assistants, and students formed a communication community where every attempt had a place. Then something small would happen.

A sound became a word. A gesture became a request. A student completed a line in a story. Laughter moved through the room.

Blossoms.

Years later, listening to a Zen teacher, I recognized the phrase immediately. I had been experiencing it every Friday morning in Special Day Classrooms.

Structure becomes the tree. Attention becomes the soil. Expression blooms.

stone circle

the growing echo

of a word

~Originally published in Frogpond 49.2, Spring/Summer 2026, p. 113.