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Show Kathleen Norris Says: Shou!d a Crippled Woman Marry? Bell Syndic t. WND Feature. There is nothing in the loss of an arm to keep you from being a loving wife, a happy mother, a successful woman. By KATHLEEN NORRIS HAS a girl who has lately-suffered lately-suffered a painful and permanent per-manent disability the right to marry the man to whom she was engaged before the accident acci-dent that has handicapped her? That is the question a New York state girl, Edith Wilson, asks me and she tells me the story. She was graduated from college four years ago, worked as a private secretary sec-retary to a commercial artist, found herself talented as an artist, too, and at the same time fell in love with her employer. All this went like a roseate dream, and their wedding was all set. Then Edith was in a motor smash-up; Phil was driving, but it was not Phil's fault that a van, out of control, shot across the right-hand right-hand lane and crashed Phil's car into a wall. Edith woke up in a hospital and for some weeks they fought to save the crushed elbow, but in the end it had to go and the right hand with it. At first she took the blow, I gather, as a woman of strong character would, but it meant the cruel end of all her hopes. She says now that she will not and cannot marry Phil; give him a crippled wife, a woman who is fated to be forever conspicuous because of that missing arm. Phil Still Loves Her When Phil tells her that it makes no difference in his love, she merely mere-ly sighs. She knows in her heart that it does. Theirs would have been a successful business together, but a small one. Their home would be Phil's country studio. They had planned to cook meals, do housework house-work together. Edith feels that that dream Is over. In her despair she doesn't want to see Phil or to talk about the past at all. She wants to get away, to earn her obscure living somewhere, far away from all the world she knew before Just COURAGE People commonly regard courage as a soldierly attribute at-tribute which properly belongs be-longs on the battlefield. Due to the wide newspaper coverage cov-erage of heroic deeds during wartime, most Americans synonymously associate courage with war. But courageous cour-ageous conduct exists bountifully boun-tifully in the daily lives of numerous Americans. Edith lost her right arm in an automobile accident. At the time she was very much in love with Phil and the catastrophy occurred shortly before they were to be married. Phil still professes pro-fesses his love for her but Edith feels that she will burden him inasmuch as she is now a helpless cripple. She wants to forget about marrying Phil, flee from everything ev-erything associated with him and start her life anew. Miss Norris suggests that Edith postpone her marriage mar-riage for a year during which time she should attempt at-tempt to regain her former self and strive to adjust herself her-self to her handicap. Two types of Edith may result from her attempt at self-adjustment: One, a bitter, bit-ter, self-pitying, irascible Edith; the other an Edith radiating courage, happiness happi-ness and love. I drove a car, cooked garden lunches for a big family, wrote typewriter letters all slowly, of course, but with increasing easiness. easi-ness. You probably will decide to have an artificial arm, which is a After a year your nerves will be quieter, you will have discovered what you can do and what vyou can't, and I hope you and Phil will have learned that even under the changed circumstances you want to be married. Believe me, time will work its usual miracle even with this stunning blow. There is nothing noth-ing in the loss of an arm to keep you from being a loving wife, a happy mother, a successful woman. That is entirely yours to decide. You can make your misfortune your great advantage If through it yon grow kinder, wiser, stronger, the sort of woman to whom other troubled spirits turn for help. If you rise above this dark time to happiness, concentrating concen-trating your Interest on the other members of your group and their affairs, yon will begin by lifting the darkest shadow from their lives, right here and now. Most of us don't have to take s( severe a trial. In so visible and concrete con-crete a form. But every one of us has to face terrible reality sooner or later, every one of us has to accept the thing we would have said was completely unbearable. You are facing yours now, and it is for you to say whether the family's comment on Edith in the next few years is going to be "Poor thing, she's never gotten over it and you can't blame her! It just gives you the blues to be with her!" or "Edith's wonderful. You never think of it she's so sweet and so busy there isn't a man in town that doesn't envy Phil his home and his wife and his children." to get away! But how can she make a fresh start with only a left hand to help her? The future looks all dark and she wants disinterested advice. What would be the wise and right thing to do? The wise thing, I think, Edith, would be to put off that marriage for some time, perhaps a year. At 23 that is not too long to wait. Then during that time, go about your life as naturally as you can. Go back to the office, file letters, answer the telephone, lunch with Phil, try to make yourself in every way just what you were a few months ago. Ask him not to discuss future plans, just to let you go ahead normally and get yourself adjusted. It may help you to remember that some thousands of your fellow Americans, almost all young men of about your age, are facing the same hard problem. Some are blind, some armless, legless, some disfigured, some never to recover from even more serious nervous and mental disabilities. Quietly and bravely, because everyone forgets their sacrifices and their predicament, these men must make their way Into a new world, must postpone their hopes of marriage, of homes of their own, until they overcome the new, unexpected difficulty that the war brought Into their lives. You'll find that you can do an amazing lot with only one hand. I know this because my own right arm was out of commission for eight weeks a few years ago, and Lipstick for Blind Women LOS ANGELES. Two veteran vaudeville troupers have Invented a device to aid blind women put their lipstick on straight. Mr. and Mrs. Henry Sylvester were walking down the street when they noticed a well-dressed, blind woman with smeared lipstick. They then designed a metal case in the shape of a pair of hps, bowed on top and straight on the bottom. A blind girl merely has to fit the container con-tainer to the corners of her mouth. . . shs't so sweet and busy |