The little country schoolhouse was heated by an old-fashioned, pot-bellied stove. A little boy had the job of coming to school early each day to start the fire and warm the
room before his teacher and his classmates arrived. 

One morning they arrived to find the schoolhouse engulfed in flames. They dragged the unconscious little boy out of the flaming building more dead than alive. He had major
burns over the lower half of his body and was taken to the nearby county hospital. 

From his bed the dreadfully burned, semi-conscious little boy faintly heart the doctor talking to his mother. The doctor told his mother that her son would surely die - which
was for the best, really - for the terrible fire had devastated the lower half of his body.

But the brave boy didn't want to die. He made up his mind that he would survive. Somehow, to the amazement of the physician, he did survive. When the mortal danger
was past, he again heard the doctor and his mother speaking quietly. The mother was told that since the fire had destroyed so much flesh in the lower part of his body, it
would almost be better if he had died, since he was doomed to be a lifetime cripple with no use at all of his lower limbs. 

Once more the brave boy made up his mind. He would not be a cripple. He would walk. But unfortunately from the waist down, he had no motor ability. His thin legs
just dangled there, all but lifeless. 

Ultimately he was released from the hospital. Every day his mother would massage his little legs, but there was no feeling, no control, nothing. Yet his determination that
he would walk was as strong as ever. 

When he wasn't in bed, he was confined to a wheelchair. One sunny day his mother wheeled him out into the yard to get some fresh air. This day, instead of sitting there,
he threw himself from the chair. He pulled himself across the grass, dragging his legs behind him. 

He worked his way to the white picket fence bordering their lot. With great effort, he  raised himself up on the fence. Then, stake by stake, he began dragging himself along
the fence, resolved that he would walk. He started to do this every day until he wore a smooth path all around the yard beside the fence. There was nothing he wanted more
than to develop life in those legs. 

Ultimately through his daily massages, his iron persistence and his resolute determination, he did develop the ability to stand up, then to walk haltingly, then to walk by himself - and then - to run. 

He began to walk to school, then to run to school, to run for the sheer joy of running. Later in college he made the track team. 

Still later in Madison Square Garden this young man who was not expected to survive, ho would surely never walk, who could never hope to run - this determined young
man, Dr. Glenn Cunningham, ran the world's fastest mile!

By Burt Dubin 
 from Chicken Soup for the Soul 
Copyright 1993 by Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Han

A lesson in "heart" is my little 10-year-old daughter, Sarah, who was born with a muscle missing in her foot and wears a brace all the time. She came home one beautiful spring day to tell me she had competed in "field day" - that's where they have
lots of races and other competitive events. 

Because of her leg support, my mind raced as I tried to think of encouragement for my Sarah, things I could say to her about not letting this get her down - but before I could
get a word out, she said, "Daddy, I won two of the races!" 

I couldn't believe it! And then Sarah said, "I had an advantage." 

Ahh. I knew it. I thought she must have been given a head start . . . some kind of physical advantage. But again, before I could say anything, she said, "Daddy, I didn't get a head start . . . my advantage was I had to try harder!" 

That's heart! That's my Sarah.

By Stan Frager 
from Condensed Chicken Soup for the Soul 
Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen & Patty Hansen 

Having a goal based on love is the greatest life insurance in the world. 

If you had asked my dad why he got up in the morning, you would have found his
answer disarmingly simple: "To make my wife happy." 

Mom and Dad met when they were nine. Every day before school, they met on a park
bench with the homework. Mom corrected Dad's English and he did the same with her
math. Upon graduation, their teachers said that the two of them were the best "student"
in the school. Note the singular! 

 They took their time building their relationship, even though Dad always knew she
was the girl for him. Their first kiss occurred when they were 17, and their romance
continued to grow into their 80s. 

Just how much power their relationship created was brought to light in 1964. The
doctor told Dad he had cancer and estimated that he had six months to one year left at
the most. 

"Sorry to disagree with you, Doc," my father said. "But I'll tell you how long I have.
One day longer than my wife. I love her too much to leave the planet without her." 

And so it was, to the amazement of everyone who didn't really know this
love-matched pair, that Mom passed away at the age of 85 and Dad followed one year
later when he was 86. Near the end, he told my brothers and me that those 17 years
were the best six months he ever spent. 

To the wonderful doctors and nurses at the Department of Veterans' Affairs Medical
Center at Long Beach, he was a walking miracle. They kept a loving watch on him and
just couldn't understand how a body so riddled with cancer could continue to function
so well. 

My dad's explanation was simple. He informed them that he had been a medic in
World War I and saw amputated arms and legs, and he had noticed that none of them
could think. So he decided he would tell his body how to behave. Once, as he stood
up and it was evident he felt a stabbing pain, he looked down at his chest and shouted,
"Shut up! We're having a party here." 

Two days before he left us he said, "Boys, I'll be with your mother very soon and
someday, some place we'll all be together again. But take your time about joining us;
your mother and I have a lot of catching up to do." 

It is said that love is stronger than prison walls. Dad proved it was a heck of a lot
stronger than tiny cancer cells. 

Bob, George and I are still here, armed with Dad's final gift. 

A goal, a love and a dream give you total control over your body and your life.

By John Wayne Schlatter 
from Chicken Soup for the Surviving Soul 
Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Patty Aubery & Nancy
Mitchell, R.N.