Opening the mailbox, my heart begins to race. The letter that I have so eagerly awaited has finally arrived. Not wanting to touch it for fear that it will disappear, I stare at the white envelope. Slowly I remove it from its temporary housing and carry it into my room. I place it on my bed and stare at it a little longer. What if the content of the letter is not what I am hoping for? Can I handle rejection? Finally about ten minutes pass, I swallow my fear and start to tear open the letter.

With every tiny rip, my mind fills with the experiences that have led to this moment, all the triumphs and defeats of my academic career. My mind wanders back through my high school endeavors. I begin to regret many things and long to change them. Then, fear replaces the courage I have finally built up, and I throw the envelope down on my bed. Again, I stare at the half-opened letter and think of the all the foolish pranks I played; all the unread books; all the unstudied-for tests; and all the grades that could have been five to ten points better. How childish could I have been? Did I not realize my future was at stake?

Nothing can be done to change the past now. I must learn to accept the errors and look to make the future better. Seeming to convince myself, I return to the letter. I finish opening it and start to read its content:

"As Director of Admissions, it is my pleasure to inform you of your selection to the class of ..." c