Of all the words in our vocabulary, I believe that hope is the most significant and enduring. It stays with us as long as we live, and when our spirits drop into the dark depths of despair, the light of hope is still shining and lighting our way back to the sunlight of reality. Hope may be compared to the sun which, as we journey toward it, casts the shadow of our burdens behind us. As long as there is life, there is hope. Hope quickens energy into action and does much to prolong our lives. If this was not true, then how could I have reached the ripe old age of 83 and still keep going, going, going, just like the energizer bunny...not quite as fast, I will admit.

Yes, I, too, have CMT and it was not a welcome gift. It is from my mother's side of the family, and I was told that it was rheumatism that caused the crippling that mainly affected my feet and legs. As for what was wrong with me, I was told I was just clumsy, awkward, told to pick my feet up and to put my heel down like Pa does. It was all my fault, so I was led to believe.

At age seven, I started to school in second grade as Mama taught me at home. We lived way back in the West Virginia hills...so far back that there was no transportation to any schools. My father was a timber contractor who cut the big trees. He had a contract with the coal mining company, and the logs were used to prop up the slate roof of the mines.

I was promoted to third grade at Christmastime, but I did not excel on the playground and was always the last to be chosen for any games. No one wanted to play with me. I was on the outside looking in, and it was so hurtful that I can see it all over again. However, I developed an "I don't care" attitude that I feel helped me to endure my situation.

I graduated from high school at age 17 with no means of going to college and knew I'd have to find work someplace.

The next seven years were rough but I never let hope die and kept on hoping for better things to come...and they did. Help came in unexpected ways to guide me in my endeavours and even today those strange strokes of fate still mystify me.

My first job was as a housekeeper and I was fired after the third day because the lady said I didn't know how to clean the bathroom well enough. She had promised me $4 a week but divided $4 by 7 and gave me $2.25. I got another job as a housecleaner and she let me work in the local five and dime during the weekend. It was then I figured out I could sell. I left there with a good feeling. I couldn't cut it as a waitress because I couldn't carry the big trays. I worked at a nut and candy shop, too, but then went to the telephone company but I was slow. I told the girls there I wanted to start my own shop and thought I could make $35 a week. They told me I'd have to sell something besides nuts to make $35 a week.

Two other strokes of fate changed my life again. My mother found out that an insurance policy she had taken out on me as a baby was valid and she got $350 from that which she gave me. I took a chance and hitchhiked home one day, and a fellow I met helped me get in touch with someone who could help me find the place to buy the equipment to get set up in a little store.

My first nut shop was in Ohio at a double feature theatre. The first day I took in enough to cover the change I had to start with and still be in business. The next day, which was Christmas Day 1939, I made $40. After that everything just kept going and growing.

After that, I think that hope gave me the determination to never give up if you have a worthy goal.

With my own business, which grew and changed over the years and which I eventually moved to Florida, I was able to help a lot of people, both in my family and others whom I felt were deserving of a chance to better themselves. I often think that even though I have to contend with CMT it may have influenced what I am and who I am today and the good health I enjoy.

I have a very caring husband, three wonderfully caring children and four lovely grandchildren who have been spared CMT, another hope that was realized. I could not ask for more...and yet I do. I will keep hoping until the day I die... for more understanding and love between parents and children, hope for more understanding and acceptance between all people of different faiths.

A statement often quoted is, "Hope springs eternal in the human breast." I, for one, believe truer words were never spoken.