As I came home from school on a slightly chilly afternoon, I saw my dad waiting for me on the front porch. Judging by the expression on his face, he seemed excited to tell me something. He was holding a paper in his hand, and I had an idea as to where it had come from. But he told me anyways. “Essie, dear! I have something to tell you, or rather something to show you… come on, we’ll go inside and read it; I already did, and it’s from Mr. Chrysanthemum!” he was practically bouncing up and down, so I told myself that it was probably good news. “What does it say?” I asked, befuddled. “He is very excited to have you in his home,” my father responded. “Read it and see for yourself!” I stared at the crisp cream colored stationary. It had a picture of the British coat of arms on it, but it didn’t look like any kind of official document. The letterhead still looked somewhat fancy nevertheless, so I was even more curious as to its contents. When I finally caught my breathe, I sat down to read it.