July 2003

Martin

THE FIRST LINE OF THE e-mail was like rocket fuel:

We are pleased to offer you a full scholarship beginning with the 2003–2004 academic year.

It propelled me from my seat. The breath I’d been holding for the past few months came barreling out of my mouth as I shouted, “Yesssssss!”

The cafe was already filled with people. Several turned to look at me like I was crazy. I did not care.

“I am going to America!” I shouted. “AMER-I-CA!!!”

I managed to sit back down to read the rest of the message. It said a package was sent to Rebecca Mano on my behalf with all the paperwork necessary to secure my visa.

I was so excited that I ran out without paying for the computer use. When I saw the shop owner come after me, I grabbed money from my pocket and shoved it into his hand and then started sprinting.

The bus to the embassy took forever that day. There were plenty of seats, but I was too excited to keep still. I paced up and down the aisle, my heart pounding, my mind racing. As soon as I saw the white gleaming building in the distance, I pulled the cord to stop the bus and then ran down the street and through the wrought-iron gates.

“Congratulations, Martin!” Rebecca said as I burst through her door.

She handed me a FedEx package that was as heavy as a textbook. I pulled the cardboard strip and the contents fell onto my lap.

VILLANOVA UNIVERSITY was written in navy blue across a thick cream-colored cardboard folder. I opened it and saw a version of the e-mail I had just received. This was the official acceptance letter. This was real.

I looked up at Rebecca, who was beaming.

“A lot of people believe in you, Martin,” she said. “Including me.”

I thought of every single person who helped me get to this very place, sitting in the American embassy across from a blond-haired and blue-eyed woman who spoke fluent Shona. The list was long, but it started with Caitlin. I had to share the news.

“Shall we call them?” Rebecca asked.

“Can we?” I said.

She picked up the phone and started to dial.