Growing up with her sports-mad brother and sister and a father who coached junior league hockey, Sharon Edwards learned at an early age to strive for excellence, take on new challenges eagerly and accept no excuses for failure.

Which made it impossible for her, at the high-spirited age of sixteen, to refuse a dare from the "bad boy" of her class to take a fast ride with him on his newly souped-up motorcycle. The ride ended in disaster before they had gone a block, as the motorcycle spun out of control and into a concrete guardrail. Sharon was thrown violently from the bike into the barrier. Her spine snapped in two.

When she was told she would forever be a paraplegic, it was the most terrifying moment of her life. Her mother and sister wept, her brother cursed and punched the walls. But her father simply sat down beside her hospital bed and said, "Well, you'll just have to make the best of what you've still got. Won't you?"

His seemingly hard attitude infuriated her, but it also fuelled a determination and pride which burned away self-pity. She worked with grim determination at her physiotherapy and was back in school, wheelchair-bound, within six months.

It was hard to endure the pitying looks of her classmates, or the way some people talked over her head as though she wasn't there or avoided her in obvious discomfort. Still, she refused to accept the label of "handicapped" and found ways to participate in all her favourite school activities, even if only by helping to paint backdrops for the drama productions or cheering on the sidelines at games. The other students learned to respect her determination. In Grade 12, she was elected Sports Rep on the Student Council.

With the help of some dedicated tutoring from her mother, a teacher, Sharon finished high school with honours and went on to university. There, she followed in her mother's footsteps and earned her teaching degree, specializing in math and science.

Her father and her physiotherapist teamed up to design and coach her through an exercise program to build her upper body strength and dexterity. It moved her to tears when her brother and sister pooled their savings to buy her a wonderful graduation gift - a top-of-the-line customized sports chair. By the time Sharon left university, she had become a competitive athlete in wheelchair basketball, the marathon and kayaking.

She had also, to her joy and surprise, found the love of her life in the strong, good-natured man who repaired the wheelchair she dinged, bent and battered with painful regularity in her no-holds-barred approach to her sports. An athlete himself, Lorne Taylor respected Sharon's sporting achievements as much as he enjoyed her outgoing nature, intelligence and strength of character. With him to encourage, tease and share the small triumphs along the way, Sharon felt truly "normal".

"I think you have to marry me." Lorne grinned as, for the third time in one day, he replaced a wheel on her chair. "You can't afford me otherwise."

But Sharon's pride would not let her accept. For all her achievements, she was still dependent on others for such simple things as getting into friends' cars or climbing stairs. A man as wonderful as Lorne deserved the best.

Despite the high demand for math and science teachers, Sharon found it hard to get a job after her university graduation. Too many principals were uncomfortable with her disability, or worried that she would not be able to manage the discipline needed in a high school classroom. It took a year of substitute teaching and volunteer coaching before Sharon was finally offered a teaching position in an elementary school. Three years later, she followed her students to junior high.



No one ever questioned her ability to handle a classroom again. A teacher who can actually get the hormone-buzzed students of Grades 7 to 9 to learn something, never mind inspire and encourage them, is a treasure in any principal's eyes.

It boosted Sharon's self-confidence enormously to know that she could do her job and do it well. It was a pleasure to watch the insecure, moody youngsters of Grade 7 mature into confident and capable adults by graduation and know she had helped them along the way with her teaching, coaching and willing ear. After graduation, some students, like Liz Patterson, became good friends.

After five years of teaching, Sharon no longer feared the humiliation of being dependent, or felt she was 'second-best' to anyone. On Valentine's Day, 2003, Lorne asked her to marry him, as he had done every V-Day for seven years. This time, she said "yes".





Sharon and Lorne have been very busy for the last few years with their volunteer work with Paralympics junior athletes in addition to the "day jobs" they love. Sharon is certified as a coach for the Ontario Wheelchair Sports Association in basketball and athletics, while Lorne has become a well-known specialist in the customizing of sports wheelchairs for use by young athletes. He has managed to cobble together a fleet of a dozen donated sports chairs for the clinics Sharon provides to young paraplegics interested in trying out wheelchair sports.

On December 24, 2007, a whole new and exciting phase of life opened up for the Taylors when their first child, James Ethan, arrived by Caesarian section. Sharon and Lorne are thrilled with their son, and despite sleepless nights, infant colic and spit-ups, are enjoying every wiggle and burp of their own little Christmas miracle. Being from necessity an old pro in advance planning, Sharon set up an education fund to save for their child's university years even before he was born. Lorne has done his part, too, to prepare for his son's future. The baby's first toy was a set of plastic teething-ring tools.