It Happened at Dawn: A Hybrid Memoir: a Story of Strength to Overcome Overwhelming Adversity

By Shanna Lee James

While in her twenties, Shanna was full of hopes and aspiration for her future, until a physician coldly delivered a grim prognosis:
“Be prepared to be disabled and in a wheelchair by the time you reach your forties.”
Shanna defied that doomsday sentence and fought hard to discover her full capabilities, crushing every daunting circumstance that tried to prevail.
Shanna lives by the words she coined: “Just because the sun set yesterday does not mean there won’t be a fresh dawn tomorrow.” With each morning sunrise, she embraced the day, full of new hope and opportunities. Through relentless persistence and hard work, she overcame every obstacle that came her way, becoming all she ever dreamed possible, and more.
It is her hopes to not only recapture the memories that made this book, but offer hope to any and all who desire to live their dreams and reach their full potential.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Jan 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781982242121

Shanna Lee James

Shanna worked in health care for forty-three years; graduated from a children’s writing course and currently writes uplifting blogs on a large health and fitness site.

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Copyright © 2020 Shanna Lee James.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-9822-4211-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-4213-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-4212-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020901692

Balboa Press rev. date: 05/11/2020

Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1 Abandoned

Chapter 2 Sweet Bird of Youth

Chapter 3 Out of the Mouths of Babes

Chapter 4 The Little Girl with the Big Imagination

Chapter 5 The Middle Child Syndrome

Chapter 6 You Were Such Perfect Children

Chapter 7 Goodbye, Age of Innocence

Chapter 8 High School

Chapter 9 Sent Away

Chapter 10 Homeward Bound

Chapter 11 Powder-Puff Football

Chapter 12 Did I Miss the Boat?

Chapter 13 No Pill Is Bitter Unless Swallowed

Chapter 14 What Happened at Dawn

Chapter 15 Into the Den of Lions Go I

Chapter 16 From Dreams to Reality

Chapter 17 I Found My Niche

Chapter 18 A Turn of Events

Chapter 19 Finding an Oasis in the Desert

Chapter 20 Ankylosing Spondylitis

Chapter 21 No Regrets

Chapter 22 Leaving Footprints

Part Two: Rainy Day Inspirations

Introduction

Standing at the Crossroads

T he trek is long. Your feet are burning hot and beginning to blister. Your parched throat begs for a drink of water and a shady place to rest. But you must forge through the heat and desolation to get there. You will go alone.

There are no signs of civilization, and you have so far to go. The untraveled road is full of sharp rocks and prickly brush. A lizard watches from a rock, wondering whether you know the way. Hot wind blows grains of sand and dust onto your face.

You stop and look back over your shoulder. Stretches of highway beckon for you to go back, yet it will take more time and energy to return to the barren land of hopelessness.

Your journey has brought you to the crossroads of life. You’re halfway there. What happens at this point is crucial, and no one can do it but you. The important thing to remember is you left a place you knew for something better. There is nothing back there. Nothing has changed.

In the far distance are the faint sounds of those cheering you on. But you are aware there is a second crowd—those who sneered and jeered. You never again want to hear their mocking tones as they say, I knew you couldn’t do it. So you do the only thing you can do: you choose strength and courage over weakness to seek comfort. You move on. You must not quit, give in, turn back, or give up. Moving toward your oasis will not be easy. Though you do not see it, it’s there. You’ve seen it in your dreams. It is waiting and calling to you. Ahead are springs of fresh water and green meadows framed with colorful wildflowers. Perseverance will get you there.

When you cross the finish line, you will be greeted and congratulated by those who stood by you, wanting you to succeed. Those who secretly wished you to fail will not be there; they will be nowhere in sight. You may never see them again. When you cross the finish line, you will proudly wear a gold crown for finishing what you began.

How do I know these things? Because it is my life. In the quiet moments of the dawn of one morning, I woke to something far better, and I no longer wanted to be on the outside looking in, so I embraced the opportunity set before me. I did what was necessary to conquer what I was told was impossible. I found my oasis, finished strong, and quenched my thirst for life. It is my hope that my journey will awaken the dreamer and give hope to anyone starting out, starting over, or needing refreshment from a long journey. My story began in the dawn of that special morning.

Please note everything is based on factual events, though the names of the characters have been changed for the sake of anonymity.

Chapter 1

Abandoned

I t was summer, and school was out. Shortly before my seventh birthday, my mother drove me and my younger brother to the mountains, where I would spend one week at my grandparents’ farm. I wondered why my brother was not staying with me, but I didn’t dare ask. I fidgeted, wondering what I would do with no children to play with. No reason was given as to why I was staying there alone. Was I being taken there for a visit, or was I being sent there? Had I done something wrong? I tried to get up the nerve to ask, but the words would not come out. The humming of the motor of the 1953 Buick was the only sound heard for hours as my mother drove the winding roads through the mountains with barely a spoken word between us. I sat alone in the back seat, choking back the urge to get carsick. I tried hard not to suck in the smoke from my mother’s cigarette, which left me reeling with nausea.

I daydreamed, picturing my grandmother greeting us from the front porch of their old farm home. Surely Grandma would be wearing her homemade apron, tied just so and something she wore until the day was done. I never knew Grandma to wear anything but a clean dress and black lace-up shoes with a thick heel. She was a proper woman and always looked after her family before herself. Grandma had light gray hair that was neatly tucked inside her hairnet. A faint breeze from the kitchen window carried spicy scents from freshly baked apple pies throughout the farmhouse. They sat cooling on the kitchen counter, and I could not wait for a piece with a scoop of homemade ice cream! There was always milk from the freshly milked cows; this was topped with thick cream. I imagined tagging along beside her as she took her basket and headed to the henhouse. She carefully placed the eggs into the basket, one by one, and then checked on the rabbits in the nearby pens. She was a woman of few words yet a woman of strength who influenced my life.

I thought Grandma was stern because she forbade my two brothers and me to go into the upstairs attic. What was hidden up those creaky stairs and behind the closed door? I was sure she could see directly into my mind-wandering soul, curious to know what she desperately did not want my brothers and me to see. Of course, when we had an opportunity that was the first place we headed! We were smart enough to wait until Grandma faded out of sight, just past the creek and before the old red barn. We knew if we hurried, we could explore, so we carefully tiptoed in bare feet, speaking in soft whispers and trying not to make a sound. The three of us filed in, my older brother first and my younger brother tailing slightly behind me.

Are you sure we should be doing this? I asked fearfully.

No, of course not! But we need to find out what’s up there that we’re not supposed to see! My younger brother and I followed without asking more questions. After all, he sometimes reminded us, he was older and knew more.

We huddled close together as we inched through the door, anticipating there could be an attic monster living there. What if it was a big, hairy beast that stuffed little children into an old wooden chest? If anyone was in the house, one was sure to hear us creeping around. Who knew what kind of trouble we would be in? My breathing kept up with the beat of my heart.

I think we had better get out of here before Grandma finds us!

Quit being such a ’fraidy-cat! Besides, we might not get another chance!

Once my eyes adjusted to the dark, I breathed in dust, causing me to choke and sneeze. It was stale and musty, and I felt sure no one had come there in a hundred years, maybe more. Across the room was a small window draped in cobwebs. I wanted to turn and run for safety. All I knew was that where there were cobwebs, there were sure to be spiders!

I spun around to escape through the creaky door when my older brother huffed and squinted his eyes at me. I knew he would not leave until he found what was stuffed inside the old trunk. Slowly we tugged on the black straps to open and find it heaped with treasures! There were more toys than we’d ever imagined and all kind of glittery costumes! We wondered who played with these things, yet we would not be able to ask. The three of us grabbed for one thing after the other. I held a gray and white monkey made from wool socks and buttons for eyes. There was an old doll with a porcelain face and bright blue eyes that followed mine, as if real.

We realized Grandma would be getting back soon, and we did not want to get caught red-handed.

As the car wound up the mountains, I wondered what might happen the next time my brothers came with me. Would there be more barn incidents where my brothers hid in the loft of the barn and called for me to join them? I found out it was a trap when I entered and was instantly bombarded with dried cow pies on the back of my head. That was their idea of fun! I liked to wade in the shallow creek and crouch on all fours to lick the cow’s salt licks. Even if I did get pranked, it was still better than staying there alone.

My grandfather was a quiet man, and he and my grandmother did not exchange more than a few words with long pauses in between. I sometimes wondered whether people ran out of things to talk about when they got old. When he was young, he worked in the local mill but also worked the farm. One day while milking cows, he was kicked hard enough to be knocked off his stool and crippled in one leg. From then on, he walked with the use of crutches. He once confided in me that he no longer felt useful. I tried to persuade him otherwise. That is one talk I remember.

I continued daydreaming about life on our grandparents’ farm. One of the biggest treats for my brothers and me was when Grandma reached into her coin purse and doled out change so we could walk to the old general store about half a mile away. My older brother was with us, which meant extra protection, but children were relatively safe in the farm community because everyone knew everyone. At