We were talking about engagement when my boyfriend, Jack, had to go to war. I was so afraid of losing him; the only way I could stay sane  was to dance. I became very good and critics praised me, but I could feel was the ache in my heart, no knowing whether the love of my life would ever return. And then one day a letter from him came:"I have lost my leg. I am no longer a whole man and now give you back your freedom. It is best you forget me." I made my decision there and then I left the city. When I returned I had bought myself a cane  and learned to limp convincingly. I told everyone I had been in a car crash and that my leg would never completely heal again. My dancing days were over. No one suspected the story. And I made sure the first person to hear of my accident was a reporter. Then I travelled to the hospital. They had pushed him outside in his wheelchair. I leaned on my cane and limped to him. I told him he was not the only one who had lost a leg, even if mine were still attached to me. I showed him newspaper clippings of my accident. " There is a whole life waiting for us out there! And I am not going to carry you--you are going to walk yourself." I limped a few steps towards him and showed him what I'd taken out of my pocket." Now show me you are still a man," I said. He bent to take his cane and struggled out of that wheelchair. I could see he had not done it before, because he almost fell on his face. But I was not going to help. Finally he managed it on his own and walked to me and never sat in a wheelchair again in his life. What I showed to him was engagement rings. And I would limp with him for the rest of life. After they met in the hospital, Jack   _  .
gave her the engagement rings got rid of the cane picked up the hope of life lived without a wheelchair