At first, it was hard to hear the voice on the answer machine. It was a man, that much I knew but it sounded as though he was calling from inside a wind tunnel. His voice crackled and snapped and popped and then disappeared altogether. His accent was familiar and he sounded very happy. Shouting-happy at times.
At length, I identified the voice as that of Daniel, a young man from the Ivory Coast I’d taught English to at the Refugee Council the previous year. He was a smart and determined student and moved with the easy confidence of many of the young Ivorians I’d met when I’d lived in the Ivory Coast three years before and when he laughed, he did so with his whole body.
“I got accepted!” he yelled down the phone. “I got in!”
He laughed right into the phone sending waves of turbulence into my ear.
“The University of East London. Thank you so much for teaching English to me, Mr James.”
And even now, close to 20 years after, I still remember, and am touched by his message.
And what I feel paradoxically, since it was him calling to thank me, is gratitude for the opportunity to touch his life in this way.
0 Replies to “Thank you, Mr James”