At the third cocktail party of the evening, an elderly, fashionably dressed woman stopped in front of me, “I have met you before,” she paused.
“You are the Consul at the US Embassy.” As I nodded, she added, “You denied visa to my son.”
“I am sorry,” I said. “We have to follow rules.”
“Right,” she said. “You actually did me a favor.”
I confessed I did not understand.
She added, “He stayed with me, as he couldn’t go to the US,” and, after a pause, “I wanted him with me.”
“I am glad it worked out right for you,” I said.
“For eight months,” she said. “He died in a car accident. He was always a bad driver.”
“I am so sorry,” I responded sincerely.
“I am thankful to you for those eight months he spent with me. Without you, I could have lost him earlier.”
I did not know how to respond. The party was over for me.