She was a bit of a tomboy; just as soon be playing baseball as playing with dolls. But dolls were OK too. She preferred outdoor activity, swimming, sleigh riding, that kind of thing. She loved being competitive when it came to almost any game or sport. That is probably part of what led to the accident. The sled was going too fast and the corner was too sharp and the stone wall beyond was unforgiving. After months of hospital stay, the verdict: irreparable spinal cord damage, no more walking, wheelchair bound from now on. Carrying on would require help from others. But the greatest help, as always, comes from within. Accepting where God has us always is important and for her, knowing He had something in mind with her sudden change in how she was going to live gave her hope.
She was loved by a man who saw who she was and proposed because there was much more to this woman than her inability to walk. There was a spirit about her that he admired and wanted that kind of support if and when he returned from serving overseas. He did return to her, and the son that she bore him in spite of the doctors advice to abort the pregnancy since it would be life-threatening to carry a baby to term in her condition. That spirit her husband saw in her, supported by her faith gave her the courage to do what she somehow knew was right.
That all happened a long time ago. It is a true story. That baby born out of that brave young woman's decision to ignore the doctor's warning is writing the story seventy-one years later. Naturally, there's much more to the story. But for now, I say, "Thank you." to the girl who would not give up and the veteran who saw how special she was. Thanks Mom. She would have been ninety-seven this month.
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