Shock. That was Darla's first reaction when her carefree childhood was disrupted by cancer. Her life became a roller coaster of intense emotions. Sadly, she lost her leg and, ultimately, faced death. During her illness, we shared difficult times, but also great times celebrating life as Darla grew in faith and joy. She lived in the present (not worrying about her past or future) and was very positive. Darla was a joy to be with because she was joyful!
My life was enriched by my precious friendship with Darla. She taught me to be more peaceful, loving, and accepting-especially of those who are considered different. My love for Darla and gratitude for the life lessons I received from being with her transcended the grief and heartbreak of losing her. I learned that our choices shape our lives. We have the power to help or hurt people. We can stagnate or soar into our dreams. Will we live in love or fear? Will we be courageous or withdraw when given challenges? Will we be caring or careless with others?
Here I share comical and touching tales of life with feisty Darla. I also include heartwarming stories about other amazing people and animals with disabilities and other differences. Like Darla's, their stories offer insight and inspiration. They show us that differences should be appreciated. They make the world a richer place.
Excerpts -
I remember walking down the hall of the hospital to visit Darla after her leg had been removed. I was very uncomfortable, literally shaking. My heart was racing. When we quietly walked into her room, my smile was weird. She couldn't look at me anyway so I let the forced smile fall. She was extremely pale and her soft blue eyes blinked as though she hoped to wake up from a bad dream. Her trauma was obvious. I longed to comfort her. I desperately wanted to say, "It will be okay," but how could I? I took a deep breath and slowly walked up to tentatively touch her hand. "Sorry," came out as a croak. One small teardrop escaped, sliding down her beautiful face. Suddenly, we were weeping together-big, sad tears of anguish. She was a brave girl, but nobody should have to be brave all the time. Crying relieves stress. We let out all we could.
Nobody wanted to talk about her lost leg. I didn't want to look at her legs either, but my curiosity was strong. I looked. I glimpsed a leg and a quarter of a leg under the sheet and looked away. My 12-year-old mind had a hard time with the reality. Then I found myself staring. It was really ... gone. Flustered and not knowing what to say, I quietly sat by Darla while our mothers nervously chatted across the room, giving us time to reconnect. For several moments, we glanced at each other and looked away with a shyness, as if we were first meeting. Then a thought came to me. Was I looking at Darla's body or at Darla? With fresh understanding, I looked at her and it was okay. Not so scary. It was my turn to give her the gift of acceptance, no matter what she faced. She was still my best friend, with a difference. A missing leg-a small change overall. When we think with our hearts, small differences are nothing. I smiled at her and she gave a tiny smile back. We finally talked normally and then hugged goodbye saying, "See you soon!" I didn't like to see her suffering but left the hospital feeling happier.
*****
She wouldn't have her dates or even a first kiss. So ... she decided to live those things through me. Feisty little Darla gave me a smile one day. Not a sweet one-one of those sly little grins that made me cringe. I lifted my eyebrows and stared, waiting for it. "Go find somebody to kiss you," she said nonchalantly. "Ha!" I squeaked, "I don't think it's that easy." "Well, it can be," she said. I was willing to do an awful lot for her, but this?
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