I read about an eight year old boy who grew up in Kansas in the early 1900s. During the winter, he and his brother would go to school early to light the wood fire in the large potbellied stove in the classroom so that it would be warm when the rest of the students arrived.
But on day someone accidentally put gasoline in the kerosene container he used to start the wood on fire. The next morning, when he lit the match, there was a huge explosions. His brother was killed instantly. The teacher cannot running and found this little boy unconscious with the lower half of his body burned beyond recognition.
She pulled him out of the fire thinking he was dead but somehow he had survived. He had lost all the flesh on his knees and shine and all the toes on his left foot. His mother was told that if he did make it, he would be crippled never able to walk again and the doctors recommended amputating his legs. But this little body was a fighter. Against all odds, he survived. He made up his mind he was not only going to walk again, but he told everyone that on day he would run again.
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