What the youth are saying about the Trail


"I Came For A Cup
Of Coffee"
A Poem by Eliott 

I came for a cup of coffee
Trying to survive another sleepless night
Probably with my headphones on
Drowning out any friendly greetings
Head down, music up
But a label caught my eye and I stopped
You are loved
There’s a misconception that we are misunderstood
But to be misunderstood we have to know ourselves
And none of us have a clue
We can’t be won over with warm coffee
But maybe warm hearts can help
I came for a cup of coffee
To fend off the nightmares
Not knowing I would end up with tears in my eyes
The world looks so bleak when it’s cold
Blue eyes reflect the sadness deep inside
No hand warmers can fix that chill
But maybe warm hearts can help
There’s so much pain, so many struggles
I became depressed at age ten
Before I even liked coffee
Nobody comes for the cup of coffee
Coffee is an excuse
To open up a little, let a little warmth in
To break down on a sidewalk with a cup in hand
I came for a cup of coffee
And left with hope


"Spreading Hope,
One Cup At A Time"

By Jillian Cady

With a quick twist of a knob, the soft roar of voices is drowned out and I find myself accompanied once

again by the screech of milk being steamed for a latte. It’s the same every Saturday, a coffee for the man

and a cocoa for the boy. I remember the first time they met, perfect strangers. They are far from that

now, I notice, as the mentor and mentee banter easily about life and the ins and outs of the past week.

The boy beams as he explains how his math grade has gone up and how excited he is to start his

internship next Wednesday- such a different dialogue than the one coming from the withdrawn young

man I saw two and a half months ago. That’s the beauty of this place, I suppose. It’s amazing to see the

change in young people when they are told that they are capable of anything and are given the

resources to pursue their goals.

Yet, I can’t help but think about the teens that don’t have a place to go: the ones that congregate on the

trails with nothing better to do than abuse substances in hopes of some sort of escape. I think about the

teens with such great potential that have no one to guide them in the right direction. I think about all

the teens who have chosen to believe the labels that society has placed on them: “not smart enough,”

“not good enough,” or just “not enough.”

I add the last swirl of whipped cream to the cocoa on the counter in front of me and fight back a smile

as I think about all of the young people that have walked through the doors of this little coffee shop in

the heart of North Bend. So many cups of coffee have been handed out free of charge to teens in need

of a safe place to meet together. The impact has been tremendous, but the fight isn’t over for the young

people in my community. For now, making change means spreading hope- one cup at a time.

"You Are”

An Essay by Ericka

The Trail Youth created the “You Are” movement, even before the coffee shop was created. I was a freshman at Two Rivers School when I first met The Trail Youth, but we would called them “The Trail Moms”. Two Rivers is portrayed as a school that has teen pregnancies, drop outs, and drug addicts. But we aren’t, we are just students who need a smaller environment, and a place to feel accepted and wanted. Two Rivers is a place that is safe, and where everyone is wanted. The Trail Mom’s would come to the trail right outside of our school and bring us coffee and doughnuts and talk to us. They would make time, once a week and spend 30 minutes talking to us, and encouraging us. During the holidays they got donations of gifts to make our holidays a little better. They care and love us, like we are their own. They listen and want to help.

The Trail Youth is an incredible program, and I have been lucky enough to watch and be apart of their journey and growth. I can say that everyone at Two Rivers School loves the Trail Youth. Most of us visit the coffee shop at least once a week. It is amazing that they got the opportunity to expand and grow their outreach to help more people in our community.  

The Trail Youth has personally helped me a lot. They have helped me in many different ways. They are there for me, support me, and care about me. They allow me to sell and display my art, and get my work out into the community. They help me find resources when I need them, and encourage me and support me with my goals. I recently got accepted into The School of The New York Times, and will be traveling to New York for 2 weeks and will be learning and growing in Photography and Writing, these are things I love and have a deep passion for. I applied and filled out my application for this program at the Coffee Home. When the Coffee Home first opened, they allowed me to display my work there. The work I displayed there started as just a school project. Our class had a grant from We Day, and I used it to print images I took onto canvas to display. When I begun this project


By Jackie H.

I need out. Mom and dad are fighting again. It seems like ever since my last hospital visit,

there’s some kind of thick tension breaking everyone apart. A new place opened up in my town,

I’m gonna check it out. It can’t be any worse that my house, well, it won’t be my house for long.

I’m leaving as soon as I get my license... one more block from this shop... I heard I get free stuff

or something... I’m here now. Warmth bursts out the door, similar to how I would imagine a hug

from a loving mother would feel. This feels nothing like receiving moms random bursts of anger,

I feel calm. Labels like “You are Worthy” explode inside the room. “You are Valued”, “You are

Needed”, “You are Loved”, “You have Purpose”. But do I? No, I’m nothing. Every damn day I

question my worth. I question everyone, and everything. Do they think about me? Will they miss

me when I’m gone? The barista hands over my hot cocoa. I read, “Don’t Give up Hope”.

I see this girl across the room. Her deep brown eyes are gorgeous. Her cup read, “You are

Beautiful”. I’m surprised nobody heard the loud thud of my heart dropping to the floor. It finally

hit me, they’re right. I’m more than a broken girl in a little hich town. I’m more than a victim of

such unspeakable conditions. I’m more than a girl, lost in her thoughts. Yes, I suffer with anxiety

and depression but I am more than that. I am Valued and Loved, Needed and Worthy. I have a

Purpose and I sure as hell won’t give up now. I’ve made it this far, haven’t I? Trail Youth Coffee

Home. That word.. “Home”. It’s the first time in my life where I can say I really know what it

means to have one.

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