Your name is Polly Wallace. Only two weeks after your 30th birthday, you're about to finally become the doctor your parents always dreamed of. I can't believe Polly is only just now graduating. She was practically born in the old white coat! That's a lie. All my life, you've made sure I had no friends to distract me from your goals. You know what my dreams were. You're the one who threw them away with the poems I wrote. How about a speech before the ceremony? That's a great idea! Go ahead, Polly, say a few words! What? They expect me to just improvise something out of the blue? Um, well. I'd like to say a few words written by Susan Coolidge. "Dry leaves upon the wall; which flap like rustling wings and seek escape..."A single frosted cluster on the grape still hangs - and that is all". It knew the thrill of spring; it had its blossom-time, its perfumed noons..." Go, dear. Huh? I'll distract them. Go and chase your dreams. R-really? But I thought you'd be happy if I became a doctor like you! Only if it's your own choice, dear. Now go! Thank you.