Most Proud Of

Sitting here, light blue suit. Matters if I look professional, 

not if I just look cute. 

Interviewer sitting in front of me, wrapped in a sweater. A make-shift office, 

but this institution couldn't be better. 

But my hands aren't sweaty, yet my knees are throbbing- and the nerves within

me, and racing and writhing and this time- it costs me:

to answer the perfect answer, but still tell the truth-

and humbly accept that struggle doesn't end in our youth. 

Not on the edge of my seat, just my knees crossed tightly- 

why am I so calm... why am I taking this so lightly? 

Because I know I should be here, I know this is right.

Even though I didn't get a wink of sleep in my bed last night.

I bought velvet black shoes, when I thought of the debt,

rising up like a giant, you'd think I'd be more upset. 

But this is my silent mission, just to be a physician. 

A doctor who knows something about sutures, but more about submission.

Then, she asks me this question: What are you most proud of? 

She catches me off guard, with such a simple  inquiry; but I have no idea,

what I've done that seems so inspiring. 

I take my time, silent for a long minute. And when I finally get my answer,

for once, my heart's really in it. 

"That I take care of my sister. Who not everyone understands. Who has 

genetic disorders, and extra-soft little hands. 

A smile brighter than summer, and not a single demand." 

"With her disability, she's taught me how to be humble--

thinking more of others, less of myself-- it's what really lead me to pursue this 

career in health." 

And right when I finished saying it, my heart was at rest. 

Even if I don't get accepted, I know my heart is still blessed.