Click on image to enlarge.

	Regular				Club
You Pay:	$5.98				$5.08

eBook Category: Young Adult
eBook Description: When total blindness strikes fifteen-year-old Carla Lancaster, she withdraws from her family, her friends and from the once beloved horses her family raises. But Jim Murry, a senior who works at her parents' ranch, has a plan for Carla. Jim and a horse named Delight turn Carla's life around and give her back her love of life and a new dream for the future....

eBook Publisher: SynergEbooks, Published: SynergEbooks, 2002
Fictionwise Release Date: November 2004

1 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [474 KB], eReader (PDB) [79 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [52 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [47 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [141 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [115 KB], hiebook (KML) [178 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [156 KB], iSilo (PDB) [42 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [53 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [132 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [73 KB]
Words: 17033
Reading time: 48-68 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: 1-931540-95-0

The hardest steps we take in life are those to leave our childhood behind and become an adult. Up until that time we have moved easily infancy to toddler with our mother's arms outstretched to catch us should we fall. Then with the excitement and wonder of the entire world at our feet we make a mad dash through childhood and come smack up against puberty.

Suddenly, we are cast adrift in a sea of churning emotions, doubts and fears. Our childhood home is a place to escape; our parents are people to avoid at all costs. Nature has deemed it time for us to break the ties that bind us to our nurturing environment so that we can step out into the world as whole, self-reliant individuals.

Some teenagers make the transition to adulthood more easily than others, but none have a thornier climb up the hill to independent adulthood than the child who is handicapped with a disability.

It's true that in the modern world there is a wealth of help for the disabled person. However, it is still up to the individual person to overcome his or her handicap. In spite of electric wheelchairs, insulin pumps, modern surgery and drugs, special schools and education, hearing aids, signing, and guide dogs, it is still up to individuals to overcome the handicap that sets them apart from the mainstream. We live in a sighted, hearing, traveling, and thinking world, and when one of these abilities is diminished, it become a handicap that sets the person apart from the norm.

To tell a young child that their particular handicap is the will of God or a special gift from God does not give them any solace when they can't drive a car, move around independently, get a job, dance, compete in sports and mix with their peers as an equal. During a time in our lives when it's so important to be like our peers?to fit in?the handicapped person is struck with the full knowledge of his or her difference. The pain that this knowledge inflicts is unfathomable to the normal person.

Even well-meaning friends and family can inflict great, deep dashes into the armor that handicapped people have construct around themselves. And even if one is lucky enough to have only loving, caring people around them all their lives, self-pity is like a stalking cat in the night?it's a predator that stalks and waits, and will strike at will. Self-pity is a vampire that sucks the blood of strength and will from its victim. The first line of defense against it is knowing that it exists, to face it, to look it right in the eye?even a blind person can do this?and them to move on. One cannot fight the enemy if they don't recognize it. And self-pity is the enemy.

The second line of defense against self-pity is for the challenged person to work on the parts of their life that they do have control over. There are things that they can do as well if not better than the average normal person. It is up to them to find out what these are and start building steps one small block at a time. In time they will have a set of stairs that will take them out of the black mire of sorrow, self-pity, fear, anger, and denial. And by the way, all of these emotions are a normal part of dealing with a death. And when a part of our body is not functioning properly?or not functioning at all?we are suffering a death?a death or loss of the missing part.

When given the tools of modern science and technology, and the understanding and emotional support from the normal world, the handicapped persons can rise like a shining star to enrich their own life and everyone around them.

I was born with deteriorating retinas much like Carla Lancaster in Good Morning, Delight. I too have suffered from self-pity and I still do at rare tunes. Even though I'm a grandmother, the evil parasite stalks me and bites at my heels when I least expect it.

Unlike Carla, in my story I am fortunate to retain a very small amount of vision, and with the help of my family and friends, have lived a full and rich life. I'm now a senior citizen. But on the rare occasion when the desire to be independently mobile (like driving to town to take part in a sale) or to just drive any place by myself takes hold of me, I'm struck with frustration tingled with just a hint of self-pity. Then I have to bring out my long list of blessings and start counting them. It usually works, but it's taken me a lifetime of practice. I'm sure some learn this trick a lot easier than I did.

Good Morning, Delight is dedicated to every young person who has had the added struggle of winning the battle over a handicap?any handicap?as they struggle through the twisting passage to adulthood.

I'd also like to thank a dear friend, Pat Mugrage, for being my right-hand computer man. Without him I'd never get anything written. Computers are great for the visually impaired yet at the same time they can be a tangled web of buttons and commands that don't seem to work right. Thank you, Pat.

Through the soft, fuzzy edge of sleep, Carla heard the occasional snuffle and thump of restless hooves from far down the long row of stalls. Much closer, right in front of her, she heard her father speak soothingly to Sassy and the big horse's answering nikker.

At first she had declined her father's request to come with him to the barn. But it was Sassy's first foal and Carla knew it might be a long night for him. She changed her mind at the last minute and joined him. Not that she'd be any good to him if Sassy did have any problems. But that was hours ago and Carla now felt herself slipping into sleep.

She had patted and spoke to Sassy when she'd first come into the stall before settling down Indian style in the fresh hey, her back against the wall out of the way. Even though she no longer had anything to do with the horses her parents boarded and trained, she still enjoyed their gentle sleeping sounds, the odors in the big barn and the feel of the warm night that made her old sweatshirt all most too much.

The horse's sounds she loved so much were having a narcotic effect on her when suddenly she jerked and raised her head.

"It's a girl, Carla," her father said, "A sweet little girl with a white blaze and the color of rich mahogany."

His voice jarred her to full wakefulness and she rose cautiously to her feet and yawned. "It's a girl?"

"Yes. She'd adorable. Come here, hon."

Carla reached her hand out and her father took it.

"Here she is," he said pulling her gently forward.

Carla inhaled the ripe aroma of birthing fluid, new life and sweating horseflesh. They were odors she'd been around all her life, paying little attention to them until just a while ago. "What color is she? I think I was half asleep when you told me."

"She's deep, mahogany like the piano in the living room. She's a beauty, honey."

He guided Carla's hand to a moist warm body thrumming with new life and Carla stopped breathing for a moment as she slicked her hand over the fragile body. "Oh Daddy, it feels like warm satin. She kind of looks like satin, too. What a little delight." He chuckled. "She's looking right at you with those pretty big brown eyes. She's acting like she's waiting for you to tell her a story. Tell you what?" His voice moved away from her, his feet crackling in the hay. "Since I'm plumb out of ideas for names, why don't you name this delightful little gal?"

Carla placed both hands on the soft, warm, wobbly body and smiled when she felt the foal twitch and move away. Sassy nikkered softly and when the foal made a tiny squeaky sound, both Carla and her father laugh.

Taking a step back so as not to upset Sassy, Carla said,

"Delight," just to try the name aloud. It sounded right. "I think I'll call her Delight, Dad, is that okay?"