Another close friend of mine was even worse at math than I was in high school, often scoring only sixty or seventy out of one hundred and fifty points. In her junior year of college, seeing everyone preparing for graduate school, she decided to take the exam herself. No one believed she was serious and often joked, saying she was just "participating for the sake of it," Yet through her hard work, she succeeded.
On our last phone call, she said, “Thinking about my high school math scores, and now becoming a PhD in Science—life is always full of surprises.”
But I know that every “unexpected” success was actually destined. One review after another for her thesis—first review, second, third—followed by countless revisions.
I rarely comforted her, only listening as she encouraged herself over the phone. During these years of graduate study, she walked the path of “knowing there is a tiger in the mountain yet heading there anyway,” stumbling along, until she finally received the PhD admission notice from her desired school and reached the place of light.
In those silent nights spent revising her thesis, she understood the long road ahead, yet remained quietly determined, unafraid of the unknown storms.