On Valentine's Day in 1991, a young Pembroke woman received a gift that would change her life forever. On that day, she gave birth to her only child -- a beautiful baby boy, whom she named Taejahn.

At first the infant seemed to be doing all right, and Tanya Lavette Durham assumed that it would ever be thus, but tests during a later medical examination gave immediate cause for concern.

"The doctor kept looking and looking at the results,'' Ms Durham remembers.

"He asked me if I could come back in an hour. Then he asked if I could come back in 45 minutes because something wasn't quite right and he needed to consult someone else.'' To the new mother's consternation, the doctor finally said that Tae, as he is known, had two holes in his heart, one the size of a quarter, and he would have to be flown to Boston Children's Hospital the next day. Meanwhile, he would be admitted to hospital here with a round-the-clock nursing watch.

"It was a big shock, and a big rush,'' Ms Durham recalls. "His skin tone was very dark and his lips were black because he wasn't getting enough oxygen.'' In Boston, doctors were amazed that the little boy had lived as long as he had given the seriousness of his condition, and a subsequent battery of tests confirmed the Bermuda hospital's diagnosis. Surgery was an immediate requirement, they said, and Ms Durham recalls spending an eight-hour eternity waiting for it to be over.

Totally unprepared for her son's appearance afterwards, Ms Durham was nearly hysterical when she saw the physical change and all the medical equipment to which he was attached. It would be several days before she could come to terms with the scene.

Meanwhile, two days after the surgery the intensive care staff noticed that Tae was not moving the right side of his body. Tests revealed he had suffered a stroke, and was also experiencing seizures.

"The doctors and nurses told me to spend as much time with him as I could because they didn't expect him to live,'' Ms Durham relates.

Frightened, she ran up huge telephone bills calling her mother twice daily for emotional support. Her world, it seemed, had come crashing down around her.

Not least of the new mother's problems was trying to get her baby to feed.

Following the stroke he had lost all of his instinctive skills, like sucking, but thanks to a kindly nurse and infinite patience, she eventually taught him to take milk from a bottle -- a process that would take hours to complete.

A small step it might have been, but one of many in which Ms Durham would rejoice as the years have passed for, like all parents of seriously handicapped children, she has learned to measure progress in the tiniest of portions.

Today, while Tae still has a long way to go developmentally, and also faces more surgery, he will celebrate his ninth birthday in a month's time -- something no one, and certainly not his medical team, ever expected to happen.

Although his verbal skills are limited to a few words; he has little arm movement, and does not yet walk, Tae understands a great deal, and is making progress as a full-time student in year four at West Pembroke School, thanks to close attention from specialist staff, and in particular paraprofessional Sonia Bremar, as well as the love and devotion of his fellow students.

"In Miss Bremar he has the best teacher in the world,'' Ms Durham says. "She is very patient and really knows how to work with Tae. In fact she knows him as well as I do. And the children are wonderful. They really love him, and make a big fuss over him.'' Always immaculately dressed, he loves to wear his uniform, and through body language shows his delight in being at school.

Tae's progress is aided by the use of a special computer programme, and part of his weekly curriculum includes horseback riding at WindReach Farm -- where, incidentally, he helped to cut the ribbon at the official opening ceremony.

"A bus collects him from school and takes him to WindReach, where he has his `own' horse. He gets really excited about going there, and becomes impatient while awaiting his turn,'' Ms Durham says. "He has a very good posture in the saddle.'' In the summer, he goes swimming with his classmates -- another great treat, as Tae is very fond of being in the water, and he also loves driving in a car.

"In fact, he really loves being out of doors,'' Ms Durham notes.

Through the kindness of a friend, he is collected from school and taken to an after-school programme until his mother finishes work.

But behind this seemingly positive scene lies a never-ending cycle of care and expense against which Ms Durham struggles every day of her life.

As a single parent, she has to work -- and indeed enjoys her job with a Hamilton firm -- but her salary nowhere nearly covers the huge, on-going expenses she has faced from the beginning.

Tae's medication alone -- he takes several pills per day for various problems -- costs hundreds of dollars, and then there are the cases of Pampers to buy, as well as clothing for a growing boy, special food supplements, and expenses associated with his bi-annual trips to the Boston Children's Hospital, including air fares, accommodation and food bills for Ms Durham.

Right from babyhood, Tae has also needed specialist equipment to assist in his mobility -- a special stroller, wheelchair, and more.

Fortunately, however, Ms Durham found a guardian angel in Paget Lion Ivan I.

Smith -- awarded the Queen's Certificate and Badge of Honour in the New Year's honours for his services to charity -- fairly early on in her struggle, and he has worked tirelessly to make her and her son's life easier. In fact, Ms Durham was given a special award by the Lions for being an exceptional mother.

"I happened to overhear a conversation between Tanya and another person as I was walking through a store,'' Mr. Smith remembers. "She was a complete stranger, and I don't know what made me do it, but I interrupted to give her my telephone number and told her to call me as I thought I could help her.'' In the ensuing years, and with permission to use the Paget Lions Club stationery, the indefatigable Mr. Smith (a past president of the Club) has written many letters, and organised fund-raisers, as well as establishing the the Taejahn Durham Charitable Fund, which is administered by a committee, and from which his medicines and other basic needs are met.

"So far, I have raised $10,000 in the last two and one half years,'' Mr.

Smith says proudly.

In addition to the special stroller and wheelchair, a computer has been donated, and the Leo Club at Warwick Academy gave a year's supply of Pampers.

At Christmastime, an anonymous benefactor offered either a trip to WindReach Farm in Canada or Disneyworld in Florida.

Like all children, Tae continues to grow, and is quickly approaching the point where his slimly built mother can no longer carry him on her hip, as she presently does, without physical injury to herself. Soon he will outgrow his special, folding stroller, which means she can no longer heft him onto the bus -- her only means of transportation.

"When we get home, I have 14 steps to climb to my house,'' Ms Durham notes, "Carrying him up all those steps is very hard.'' Emphasising that she accepts her lot in life, does not want sympathy, and remains extremely grateful for all the assistance she has been given, the dedicated and loving mother nevertheless reveals that it is becoming increasingly difficult to manage their lives without her own transportation.

"I really need a car as I don't like to depend on people too much,'' she admits. "I would like to be able to get up and go when I need to.'' Because her budget is limited, Ms Durham is also unable to afford a two-bedroom home, which she really needs in order to give her son his own space, teach him a degree of independence, and allow her to get a little rest.

"I wish my finances would stretch to a two-bedroom place, but I don't see paying $1,800 a month. What would I be working for?'' she reasons.

Meanwhile, she says her family are "a great help'', and she continues to think positively about Tae's future, despite the length and challenges of the road ahead.

"He has had injections to relax his leg muscles, surgery to lengthen the tendons, and now wears leg braces to straighten them,'' Ms Durham says. "I am really looking forward to him taking his own steps, and I do therapy on him every night. I will be the happiest person in the world to see him walk, and know that all my hard work paid off. Meanwhile, we are trying to work on acquiring a gait trainer, which he really needs.'' Looking back over the years, Ms Durham freely admits they haven't been easy.

Nor is it getting appreciably easier. Mealtimes, for example, can be fraught, particularly since she must hide Tae's medication in his food. For reasons not understood by his doctors, the lad occasionally shuts down and won't eat for weeks, making it very hard to administer his medicines. In addition, he can only eat soft foods, which she prepares.

At home Tae throws tantrums if his mother is out of his sight, and his lack of verbal skills makes communication harder, although Ms Durham has grown skillful at "reading'' her son's gestures. With limited use in his hands at present, she must do just about everything for him, from bathing to dressing and lifting him. He has, however, learned to feed himself, and can push himself along the floor after a fashion.

On the positive side, Ms Durham says her son is a loving child with whom she shares many happy moments.

"I read to him every evening, and thanks to the donation of a computer, I am trying to focus his interest on that, although we still need the special software programme that he has in school. He loves music, and has his own earphones.'' While many young women would resent the severe curtailment of normal life a child like Tae has wrought, Ms Durham dismisses even the suggestion.

"I am so happy to have my son,'' the courageous mother says. "He makes me the person that I am.'' Donations to the Taejahn Durham Charitable Fund are welcomed, and should be mailed to: P.O. Box PG 296, Paget PG BX.

Photos by Arthur Bean Story time: (Left and right) Djevin Thomas and Sheikira Swan enjoy sharing a storybook with Tae Durham, who is very popular with his fellow West Pembroke School students.

Watch this: West Pembroke School paraprofessional Sonia Bremar uses a special computer programme to work with eight-year-old Taejahn Durham, who is developmentally challenged. Thanks to her perseverance, the year four student is making progress.