Earlier, I posted Chapter 1-15 of my new series of blogs, which will collectively form an online book. Below, I have attached Chapter 16. Chapter 17 is scheduled for publication in 2 weeks.

Chapter 16: A life-changing opportunity

Disclaimer: Since this is primarily a fictional story, please do not take everything I write too seriously

[…]  “Well, to be honest, when I posted that envelope, I had very few expectations,” I said.

“As I mentioned, according to the rules and what was stated on the school’s website, I would never have had access to those shortened studies that would allow me to pursue higher education in the Netherlands. It seemed like a far-fetched dream, almost teasingly out of reach. But, I had learned from others that if all doors seem closed, you should still knock because one might open and create an opportunity out of nothing. This lesson was ingrained in me by those who had faced similar barriers, who had turned rejections into acceptances through sheer persistence. So, with a mix of resignation and a flicker of hope, I sealed my application—and my future—in that envelope.

It was getting late, the sun dipping below the horizon and casting long shadows on the pavement as I pedaled back home on my bicycle. The streets were quiet, the day’s hustle settling down, and the cool evening breeze gently reminded me that no matter the outcome, life moves forward.

Once I got home, my father asked why I had arrived later than usual. My colleagues and everyone else had stopped working at 5 o’clock, and it was already 7 o’clock when I got home. I didn’t dare to tell him that I had sent a letter to a school over seventy kilometers away from our house. I was afraid he would find it problematic, especially since we hadn’t lived in the Netherlands for long and I was still a young girl unfamiliar with many local customs. I also thought I might not get a response from the school, and if I did, it would likely be a rejection due to not meeting the age and university requirements for the program. Despite this, I held on to a glimmer of hope. Instead, I told my father that I had been finishing a high-priority task at the office, which was why I was late. So, I kept my actions a secret.

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow through the kitchen window, we gathered around the dinner table. The aroma of roasted chicken filled the air, mingling with the scent of freshly baked bread and the earthy notes of fresh salade. It was a simple meal, yet prepared with such care that it inspired a moment of gratitude.

As we ate, the conversation flowed effortlessly around me, touching on everyday matters. Amidst the laughter and clinking cutlery, my mind began to wander. As a silent observer of my own thoughts, I found myself drawn into a deep contemplation that felt as vast as the ocean. Deep inside, a flicker of hope stubbornly persisted, like a candle fighting against the encroaching darkness. I had hope that the closed doors would open for me.

Later, as the night enveloped the world in its quiet solitude, I found myself lying in bed, staring at the shadowy ceiling. The events of the day replayed in my mind, but they felt distant, like echoes in a cavernous hall. In that stillness, I whispered a prayer, not just with words but with the yearning of my soul. I asked God for a golden opportunity, a chance to bypass the myriad obstacles that had often seemed like a maze designed to trap me in mediocrity.It was a plea to make up for the years that felt wasted, caught up in what now seemed like complete nonsense.  As sleep finally claimed me, the hope I had felt during dinner became stronger and settled deep in my heart.

The next seven days felt like years, with time dragging by slowly. Filled with tension, I waited anxiously each day, and every time I came home, I asked if anyone had called for me.”

My father would reply, “No, why do you ask?” I would respond, “Just because of my job. I’m expecting an important call,” without providing any further details.

After a week, on a beautiful Tuesday, I finished my work and cycled home. The birds were singing, the trees looked stunning, and the sun was shining brightly. When I arrived home and had just dropped my bag in my room, my father came to me and said, “Marya, there’s a letter for you from Utrecht. I haven’t opened it yet, so I don’t know what it says, but judging by the address, it seems to be from a school in Utrecht.”

Full of excitement, I took the letter, thanked my father, and went to my bedroom. I closed the door behind me, and brimming with anticipation, I opened the envelope. The letter read something like: “Dear Marya, We have received your letter and would like to have a conversation with you. We would like to invite you to our location in Utrecht. Please come next Thursday at 10 o’clock in the morning. Below you will find more details and our address. If this time does not suit you, please let us know.”

Overwhelmed with joy, I began to shout. My parents rushed over to see what was happening. My father, realizing it was related to the letter, asked, “What was in that letter? And who sent it?”

“Dad, Mom, please sit down,” I said, gesturing to the living room. “I have something important to tell you.” I led them to the living room, where they took a seat on the couch. My older brother was also there.

I continued, “You see, I’ve always dreamed of pursuing higher education and becoming a lawyer to protect people’s rights around the world. This has been my big dream for as long as I can remember. As you may not know, Mom and Dad, I’ve been quite unhappy here in the Netherlands because I haven’t had a fair opportunity to prove myself or access higher education. However, I recently learned from my internship supervisor about a school in Utrecht that offers a special program for highly educated individuals like me who don’t have a Dutch background. This program allows us to complete a specialized course in one year and then gain unrestricted access to any bachelor’s program at any university.

Afterwards, I turned to my father and said, “Dad, I know the school is quite far from our house—70 kilometers away—and I understand that might be a concern for you. But please, don’t be upset. I sent them a letter asking for a chance to join this special program. I kept it a secret, but now I’ve received an invitation for an initial interview,” I said, pointing to the letter. “The fact that they haven’t outright rejected me is already a significant step.”

I continued, “You see, Dad, this school typically requires that applicants be at least 21 and have completed university-level studies in their home country. I don’t meet their usual qualifications since I’m only 16, so I explained my situation in the letter I sent a week ago. Fortunately, instead of a rejection, they’ve invited me for an interview.”

Then I turned to my brother and asked, “Would you come with me to this interview next week, on Tuesday at 10 o’clock in the morning?” I added, “I could really use your support and presence. This might be my golden ticket to getting into school quickly and working towards becoming a lawyer.”

My brother nodded with a smile and said, “Yes, I’d be happy to go with you.”

“And Dad, I know that the location is quite far from our house. But please say yes. This is my only option,” I said, looking down and bracing myself for a likely “No” along with a list of reasons why it wouldn’t be feasible. Instead, my father came over, hugged me, and said, “Don’t worry. You’re old enough to travel not just 150 kilometers each day, but even 700 kilometers if needed. You have our support and our blessing. I hope you will be accepted there.”

“Really, Dad?” I said, my joy overflowing as I hugged my parents. During dinner, I shared all the details about how everything had come together.

A few days passed quickly as I eagerly awaited my interview with the school. On the day of the interview, Thursday, I got up at 7 o’clock and prepared to head to Utrecht with my brother. We dressed and drove to Utrecht, and I remember the drive feeling very long. As we traveled, I wondered whether it was wise to make such a long journey every day for school. It would require a lot of effort and result in very long days. However, I had no other options, as no schools in my area could offer the opportunities I was seeking.

Once we arrived, we parked near the school. I distinctly remember that it was a red-and-white building with a beautiful garden behind it.

My brother and I walked through the entrance of the school, which was unusually secure. Tall gates and a vigilant security guard created an air of formality that felt out of place for an educational institution. The level of security was unlike anything I had encountered before; my previous experiences with schools had never included such stringent measures.

At the reception, we signed in, and the receptionist, a woman with a warm smile and impeccably neat hair, instructed us to have a seat while we waited. We chose a pair of red chairs in the waiting area and glanced around. The room was decorated with vibrant artwork and motivational posters that added a splash of color and energy to the otherwise sterile environment.

As we waited, I observed the students coming and going. Many of them were older, dressed in eclectic styles that ranged from formal business attire to casual streetwear. A few were smoking outside, and their casual attitudes and the pungent smell of cigarettes were surprising to me. This was quite different from the uniformity and strict rules of my current school. At my current school, I was one of the only foreigners, and the environment was fairly homogeneous. Here, the diversity was striking. The student body was a vibrant tapestry of different cultures and backgrounds, and I didn’t see many students with the typical blond hair of Dutch people. The school had a cosmopolitan feel that was both captivating and a bit overwhelming.

My thoughts were interrupted when the secretary, a tall woman with an elegant air about her, walked over. “Are you Marya? Welcome!” she said, extending a hand for a handshake. Her warm greeting and graceful manner contrasted with the stark formality of the surroundings. “The principal is ready to see you now. Please follow me.”

Surprised, my brother and I looked at each other because we did not expect to have a conversation with the principal directly.

As we followed her down a long corridor lined with glass-walled classrooms, my brother and I exchanged nervous glances. The walls were adorned with student achievements and colorful banners, and the atmosphere buzzed with a mix of anticipation and excitement. We approached a set of large, wooden doors with brass handles that seemed to lead to the principal’s office. My heart raced with a blend of excitement and unease, as we were about to meet the person who could potentially shape my future in this new and unfamiliar environment.

One of the doors opened as the secretary gestured for us to enter. We stepped inside, where a woman around the age of 45 greeted us. I’ll never forget her face: she was wearing a red suit and had short brown hair. Her white blouse complemented her fuller build, and as she stood next to the window, she welcomed my brother and me with a warm, wide smile.

She then said, “Please have a seat on these chairs,” pointing to two chairs next to her desk. After we sat down, she took her own seat and addressed me with a warm smile, “Welcome, young lady,” while also turning to my brother. With a friendly tone, she asked, “And who might you be?”

My brother responded with a smile, “I’m her brother, and I came as her driver.”

The principal then turned to my brother and said, “Well, you’re also very welcome.”

She turned to me and said, “Marya, you wrote a very detailed letter last week. I must say, I’m impressed by how well you speak Dutch, given that you’ve only been in the Netherlands for a short time. Additionally, I was moved by your story and understand your desire to attend our school.”

I replied, “Yes, of course,” and then briefly summarized what I had mentioned in my letter: that I had not yet had the chance to prove my knowledge and that I was eager to attend law school, but had not found any opportunities thus far.

The principal said, “I understand your situation and frustration, Marya. Unfortunately, there are rules in the Netherlands that often prevent talented individuals like you from fully showcasing their abilities.”

Disappointed, I glanced at a plant to my left as I absorbed her words.

She continued, “However, rules are made by schools, and schools sometimes have the flexibility to deviate from these rules.” Instantly, I was captivated, looking at her with amazement and hope.

She went on, “The standard rules require that applicants be at least 21 years old and have completed university-level studies in their home country to qualify for our program. However, since I have the authority to make and amend these rules, I may choose to deviate from them if I have compelling reasons to do so.”

She added, “Marya, your story and your situation have truly touched me. I can see how disadvantaged you are and how eager you are to advance, with strong ambition and determination. That’s why I want to give you a chance to access our school, even though you don’t meet the general requirements and are younger than usual for this program.”

She smiled warmly and continued, “I want to offer you the opportunity to participate and complete the program within one year.” Stunned, I glanced at my brother, who was smiling back at me.

“But there are some conditions,” she continued. “You need to meet a number of requirements.”

“Yes, of course. What are they?” I asked, my voice tinged with tension.

The principal continued, “You might be able to start with us after the summer, but first, you need to pass three exams with a score of at least 6 out of 10. There will be no second chances. These exams, covering English, Mathematics, and Dutch at the Havo end level, will take place in three months. They are the same exams taken by regular Dutch students aiming for higher education. If you pass all three, you will be eligible to enroll in the program starting September 1st this year.”

Tears of joy welled up in my eyes. I had finally been given the chance to prove myself. I could hardly believe that my biggest dream was on the verge of coming true. The thought of starting the program in September and, after one year, being able to pursue a bachelor’s degree at university filled me with even more excitement.

Click here for Chapter 17