"Cinderella and the Wheelchair"
                                      by Sissy Freeborn


Preface by Author: The essay I am submitting is several letters that I wrote wondering if I should go to the Ball in a wheelchair. I have been asked to submit it, by several in the MSWorld chat room and also TIE, so I hope you like it!
Love, Sissy

  (OCT. 13th) With a little help from my friends, I need some opinions on a really thorny matter. I know some will think this is silly, but it is not for me.

  The Halloween Ball is coming up. It is a formal affair of dancing and dinner; and all of the ladies will be in evening gowns. Since we were married, my husband and I have always attended the Halloween Ball. The Ball is an annual town function--a way we raise money for the needy of the Valley, and there are a lot of them this year.

  My problem is, for the first time, it does not look like I'll be able to attend without my wheelchair. That is the rub-- should I attend at all? How does it look, to see a little 130 pound woman sitting in a wheelchair, in an evening gown? Should I go, but just for the dinner portion part of the affair? Lastly, and I think you, Dear Friends understand this, if I go and am the center of pity, I just know I am going to throw up. Oh, another consideration -- there are no handicap facilities in the building, including the entrance. It was built by the WPA.

  So your opinions are welcome. I turn to you, my Dear Friends, for advice. What do you think I should do? Love, Sissy

  (OCT. 18) What a wonderful "family" you are, My Dear Friends. Well, it looks like your opinion is that I should attend. So, I told Frank that I will be going to the Ball, after all. I think he really wanted to go but would not say so, because of me. When I told him that I do want to go with him to the Halloween Ball, his face lit up. And he got that look on his face--you know, Ladies, the one where "your man" surely has "something up his sleeve". Well, Frank won't tell me what he has planned, so I'll just have to wait.

  Now, I'll tell the dressmaker to finish my gown. I will call the building manager, to see if any handicap arrangements can be made for me. Yes, I'll ride in my own horse-drawn chariot to the Ball. But, I think Cinderella had a better deal. All she had to contend with was a pumpkin and glass slippers.

  I'll let you know what happens--good or bad. And thank you all, for your help. Wish me luck! Till then, I'll just keep repeating a line from my favorite children's story. "I think I can, I think I can." Love, Sissy

  (NOV. 3) Well, the "terrified girl" went to the Ball and it was an enchanted night! it seemed that magic stirred the air, even as the clouds were rolling in.

  I was very worried, because my hands were not cooperating. I was sure that I was going to drop food all over me, but I did not let Frank know, about my fears.

  When we pulled into the semicircle driveway, in front of the building, Frank got my wheelchair out of the car and helped me get into it. Actually, I can stand for a while, as long as I am holding on to something as my balance is gone, but it is worse in the dark.

  Even my wheelchair was dressed up, for this special event. Someone, from TIE, had suggested that I decorate my wheelchair. My dressmaker had some extra fabric from my gown and did a splendid job.

  While Frank went to put the car into a parking space, I sat there and looked at the steps, five to the first landing, then twenty to the columned portico, added in the 1940's. It seemed like an impossible "mountain".

  Then I heard someone call my name. It was George Maybon and Arthur O'Neal. "You look like you need a little help, Sissy," Arthur said.

  "Well, I can't fly this Halloween night. I seem to have misplaced my broomstick," I jokingly replied.

  Before I knew what was happening, he called his twin boys over and I was whisked up the stairs. I thanked them all. But I said to Arthur, "You know you didn't really need to do this." I thought I saw a tear form in his eye, and he turned away from me.

  When we got to the top of the stairs he pulled me aside. There really were tears in his eyes! (And here is where it sounds like I am self-serving, but I include it only because I want you to know how it affected me.) "I remember a night," he said, "when we had a terrible storm and I needed someone to help my Agness give birth to those twin boys. You came to us through that storm, when all others were gone. You didn't need to come then, either, but you did. I will always remember you, in the light of two small oil lamps, yelling to Agness in all that blood, that she was not going to die because you would not let her. Even if you had to fight the Banshees yourself, and I knew then she would live. When I see my boys, I see you as well. Nothing I can do will ever repay you for that night, but please, let me do what I can". Then he was gone, before I could answer him.

  I turned to see Frank at the bottom of the steps. He asked, puzzled, " How did you get up there? You are really a witch you know."

  "No", I said, "It's women's magic". I smiled and repeated, "Just women's magic."

  As Frank wheeled me into the main room, I kept thinking about the birth of the twins. It was when I was new to being a midwife. All I remember is that it was a very difficult birth. Agness was not a big woman and the babies were huge. The birth was complicated by the problems of no electricity or pure water, due to the storm. But, it did not seem to me to be anything more that just a hard, long, delivery and a very scared woman. So, why was he so grateful?

  The ballroom was huge. There were tables on both sides and a large dance floor. The prize pumpkin, from the Fall Fair, was in the middle of the floor, magically transformed into a huge jack-o-lantern. Corn cobs and pumpkins were everywhere. It was a beautiful "fall fantasy".

  Frank wheeled me to our table. People kept coming up to me and thanking me for coming. It soon settled down to almost normal. For a moment, I forgot all about my wheelchair and even my MS affected hands. There were round tables and the turkey dinner was home-style, which meant plates of turkey and bowls of veggies were put out on the table to serve your self. I like this style of dinner because I am not much of a meat eater and I can have all the veggies I want.

  I was given a key to the executive office in the north wing. In there was a large private bathroom, unknown to the public. So after the dinner, I rolled down there and discovered a bathroom big enough to be an office, which apparently it once was. The gown was a bit of trouble, but then what are grown daughters for? So, Elizabeth helped me and we were soon all ready for the dance. By the time we got back to the ballroom, they had cleared all the tables and moved them back, to make room for a huge dance floor.

  I didn't really intend to stay, for the dance, but I found I was having such a good time, that I stayed till the end. Toward the end of the dance, they always have special dances. When they announced the "lovers dance", the lights were turned down low and shaded pink. Frank got up and pulled me to my feet--he is really a strong man--and he was holding me. "Don't let go," I pleaded.

  "Donta worry, my Lady Katherine of Scotland", he answered, in his heaviest brogue. "I could never loose my own true love. You are life to me."

  Then he whisked me into the middle of the floor, leaving my wheelchair far behind. To my surprise, the other couples slipped away from the floor and stood on the sidelines, until we were the only couple dancing on that big dance floor. I would tell you more, but tears kept coming from my eyes. But I do know this: I was not the only one crying. More than one lady had to repair her makeup and a few men were wiping their eyes, also--no doubt from the dust in the air ;-).

  But for me, I knew only of the magic in the air and complete happiness in the arms of my only love. As I danced with my husband, it seemed like old times. A moment in time was preserved in my memories, like a jewel.

  What a wonderful life I have, I thought, someone must be watching over me, to let me have such a loving husband and children. I would not trade my life for anyone else's.

  As I said, it was truly a magical night and the best dance I have been attended. It is strange, however, on Halloween, a night when we dress up to disguise our true selves, was the very time I wanted all to see my true self --someone who loved to dance and loved life, not a handicapped woman. And they did.

  Everyone, at the Halloween Ball, had their hearts on their sleeves and love in their hearts. I learned so much that night.

  You see, it is not enough to be loving and giving of your own love. A wise person knows when to accept love from others, so that they can feel good about themselves, as well. That, you see, is the best way to love.

  So, many days later, I still have tears in my eyes, when I think of that Halloween night. There is no set age for learning. As old as I am, I continue to learn from life experiences. I feel like putting a sign around my neck saying, "Please be patient with me, even now, as God is not finished with me yet."
Love, Sissy



(NOV. 6) Epilogue: Well, I received a letter form the Dance Committee thanking me for attending this year's Halloween Ball. We raised nearly $5,000, in cash and gifts. It has been proposed that part of the money be used to add wheelchair accommodations to the building. Rumor has it they are looking for me, to consult with them on just what is needed. If that is true, I'll need a little more help from you, My Friends :-). As for the other portion of the money raised? It will be used to help the needy, in our Valley. We do not have welfare here. And, as likely as not, no one would accept it, if we did.

  If a neighbor has too much hay in their barn, they will drop off a truck load, to someone who might have need of it. Another neighbor might find that they don't have room on their shelves, for all of their new homemade canned goods. They are always anxious to share the "excess" with others. Missed mortgage payments will be, somehow, mysteriously paid. It is the way neighbors love one another, here in the Valley. By worldly standards, we may not be rich, but that depends on what kind of "gold" you're looking for. 

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