The Overcoming Adversity Bloghop

The wonderful Nick Wilford is hosting this fantastic bloghop. Nick's stepson Andrew has cerebral palsy and is coming to the end of his time at his current school. Unfortunately post-18, things don't look quite so good in Scotland. Andrew was basically told he would be attending Motherwell College (no element of choice), where he would be doing the "Access-8" course which more or less amounts to daycare (fingerpainting and the like), nothing that was going to push him to develop, or end up with a career. Nick's family would like to send Andrew to Beaumont College in Lancaster. Andrew has visited the school and it offers amazing facilities like Eye Gaze technology which would enable Andrew to use his eyes to select from different phrases and communicate much more effectively. He is interested in following a film editing course. The main issue is fundraising, and for that, Nick has created The "Overcoming Adversity" bloghop. With flash pieces and poetry written by the participants, Nick will create an anthology to put up for sale on Amazon. The sales will go to Andrew's college fund.

The rules are simple:
1) Sign up on the linky list.
2) Please write about overcoming adversity and keep your entry to 500 words.
3) Please post on February 4th or 5th. 
4) Keep it family-friendly.

Here's my contribution:

NEVER TOO OLD
By Christine Rains

I was expecting it when they called my name, but my hands still shook with hearing it. The crowd broke out into applause as I stood. Perhaps I should've felt big amongst the hundreds of people, but I still felt small. Not like a grain of sand on a beach, but more like a shell gleaming with a rainbow of colors.

Glancing at my walker, I didn't want to use it as I walked to the stage. I wanted to make it on my own two feet. Yet the first step reminded me this old body didn't have the strength.

My grandson hopped up and came to loop my arm through his. He winked and grinned. Not his usual mischievous one, but one of pride. It was worth everything for that alone. I squeezed his forearm, and we walked to the stage together.

The presenter was a young woman. No more than thirty. She was a best-selling author with several books under her belt. I had one.

We shook hands as she said her congratulations and passed on the award. I put the bulky trophy on the podium. A speech was expected. I'd gone over the words a thousand times in my head. None seemed right. I was a mother of five and a grandmother of eleven. I never worked and I never went to school. I feared my few words of wisdom would be lost on this crowd.

“Thank you.” I cleared my throat and spoke louder into the microphone. “Thank you, everyone. It's an honor to be here today and receive this wonderful award.”

Everyone was silent. I wet my lips. “I'll keep this short and sweet. I'm a bit flushed, but goodness knows I could use another glass of wine right now.” There were a few chuckles, but they helped relax me. “Five years ago, the only stories I knew were ones other people read to me. And while I did appreciate them taking time to read to an old woman, they couldn't read fast enough for my liking. So I thought, why wait for them? I need to do something about it myself.

“Two years later, I could finally read stories to my grandkids. A joy I cannot begin to describe. And then I thought, why stop there? You've got bunches of stories in your head. Share them with your grandkids, with all the kids.” I swallowed, still feeling that desire.

“I heard a lot of laughter. Not at what I wrote, but at me. People told me I was too old. Their protests were fueled when they discovered I just learned to read and write. They claimed I couldn't possibly write anything worthy to be published.” I patted the trophy. “Well, maybe this old woman didn't hear them right. I went on and did it anyway.”

The crowd stood as they applauded with a near deafening roar. My heart fluttered as I smiled. Maybe they could appreciate an old woman's story of perseverance.