The letters were delivered and the application dropped off, so now, I would wait to see if the lady of fortune would choose to be cruel or kind. I know I’ve already talked to you about patience, my son, but let me tell you, the more you want something, the slower the moments drag by. The wait for a response to my pleading letters dropped by slower than thick honey off a cold branch. It’s odd to think how, at the time, every minute seemed to contain one thousand more within it – like one of those beautiful little Russian nesting dolls, except none of these seconds, hours or days were beautiful, and the burden of their gravity nearly suffocated me.
I hate to say that good things come to those who wait because that seems like something only old men say, once they’ve long surpassed their best before date and all their wisdom seeps out in pithy, superficial diddies. But, you already know this is true. After all of this fighting, I finally received the email that I, unknowingly, had been waiting for my entire life. The WUSC head office, in Ottawa, responded to our appeal and they amended their policy so that applicants from the JC: HEM could be accepted into their student refugee program. You see, Elvin, the strategic pen (or for your generation, the keyboard) can be mightier than the sharpest blade.