The inspirational writing below “nails” a perspective of living with “hurdles”. Written by my daughter, it earned her the opportunity to compete in the “Power of the Pen” state final writing competition… *********************************************************** Power of the Pen Prompt: Hurdles, write about one that stands in your way. Title: Jumping Hurdles with No Legs *********************************************************** Bright lights, loud horn. Boom. These things are in my dreams every night. The stunning trauma of a 16-wheeled semi hurtling toward you at 75 miles per hour isn’t something easy to forget. It’s not something in the norm. When you’re born, you learn how to walk. I did that, along with everyone else. But now, I’ve forgotten again. My legs are cold metal wheels, grazing under my hands as they spin on either side of me. At school, all of my classes are on the first floor. All of my friends complain about walking to school or running in gym. But if I could, I’d walk across the country and run a marathon every day. A lot changes when you haven’t walked in 2 years. You realize who your real friends are, and who will shy away if you’re not just like them. Being wheeled around in the grocery store or mall brings you looks of pity from others. Those looks make my chest tight and my throat burn. I want to shout, “I’m just like you!” But they’ll only turn away. They know I’m not, and I know that too. Some days I visit kids who are crippled like me. They decorate my wheels with brightly colored ribbons, weaved through the spokes. They’ll hobble on braces, lean on walkers, glide on wheelchairs, and smile brighter than any child you’ll ever see. Because now we know how great it is to be alive. An olympian came to talk to our class once. He leaned down next to my wheelchair and smiled, his bright white teeth reflecting his good soul. He took my hand and said, “Now, I’ve jumped some pretty high hurdles. But you, my child, jump farther than I can ever dream of jumping. And you’re making it.” Some days I wake up, smile, and thank god for letting me live. Other days I wake up, cry, and scream into my pillow, “Why me?” And occasionally, I wish I didn’t wake up at all. But I do wake up. I face every day with my cold wheelchair, my legs thin and frail, not resembling their former selves. And each day, I jump a hurdle, and looking back at them all I feel I can do anything. Each day another will block me, but I shall flourish. *********************************************************** Visit mypainweb for more inspiration.
Posted on: Mon, 17 Mar 2014 20:20:09 +0000