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Twas the night before Christmas, and next to the tree
A law school hopeful sat sipping his tea.
He’d spent countless hours researching schools
To learn where he’d fit among the applicant pool;
He’d overcome all of his demons and dread
Of blasted logic games that had danced in his head
And he recalled by the time of the test he’d been liable,
To go stark raving mad and eat his Logic Games Bible.
When his wife came inside from the cold with a letter
They wondered if this time the news would be better.
These days had been filled with anxiety and fear
As rejections piled high, and failure seemed near.
He remembered how back in the summer they’d thought
That law school held the promise they’d sought.
When what to his desperate eyes should appear,
But another thin envelope that cause him to sneer.
As with the others that said in bold letters, REFUSED,
He knew in a moment it was just more bad news.
More rotten than proctors who cheated him for time
Schools that denied him jumped to his mind.
Harvard and Texas and Michigan U.
Miami, Virginia, oh, not LSU!
Won’t y’all take an addendum so I can go over,
How I pleaded no contest and since then I’ve been sober.
As seconds inside freezing test centers fly,
When the answer’s elusive and you just want to cry,
So laughed the voices inside his head
“You’re too old for law school, you fool,” they had said.
He’d rounded up letters from former professors
Who were helpful once he’d applied gentle pressure.
He sought out another recommendation
From a boss sympathetic to his situation.
Oh how he agonized over his essay
Drafting and crafting new words night and day
Until he arrived at a statement so certain,
To reveal his experience and draw back the curtain.
He knew if the committee would look deep enough
They’d find a candidate who had the right stuff.
He’d learned from that terrible semester, you know
And graduated with a solid almost-3.0.
He’d fought with the finicky LSAC online
Though crashes and errors and scheduled down-time.
And now he just wanted some school to agree
A mighty fine lawyer someday he could be.
He’d completed his applications by early November
And he sat and he waited all through December.
It was out of his hands and he’d tried to enjoy,
Christmas at home with his two little boys.
He spoke not a word to his colleagues at work,
Who, when they heard about law school, had acted like jerks
In fact, they had laughed at his aspirations,
And sent him a Diesel Driving Academy application.
So there he stood by the wife, now despondent
Holding this familiarly thin correspondence,
But instead of the awful words that he’d dreaded,
“Congratulations. You have been accepted.”