There is something about letters of this nature which inclines the writers to break the news as early as possible; after two words I knew I had been rejected. My eyes began to burn as I tried to hold back tears, Maryna wrapped her loving arms around my neck comforting me and kissing my forehead. I nodded in acceptance, telling myself that I had been prepared for many rejection letters on the road to finding a scholarly home; still, the first one's bite penetrated me, leaving a bitter stinging sensation in its wake.
Later that evening, Maryna and I went for an evening stroll to enjoy the remarkably beautiful weather. On the way we passed a clover patch, and as a child delighted with simple pleasures in life Maryna bent to marvel at the smooth greenness. A smile crept over her face as she combed through the turf. I crouched down with her, watching with amazement as she plucked a single stem from the clutter. She smiled as she gave it to me, "Here we go," uttering one of her favorite delightful expressions (even more delightful with her slight British accent). It was a four leaf clover. "I feel that my luck is changing already," I replied with a grin.
God's Little Cows is the literal translation of the Russian word for a Lady-Bug.
