"Lizzie? What's wrong?" Paul was deeply worried.

"I don't know," Elizabeth said weakly. "I just feel so cold..."

Paul went to his wife and held her tight. "You're burning up!" he exclaimed. "I'm fetching the doctor right away!"

The doctor arrived and checked Elizabeth. "It looks like you have a bad case of the flu," he told her. "I recommend lots of bed rest and plenty of fluids for a couple of weeks."

"Will it hurt the baby?" asked Elizabeth.

"The baby will be fine, as long as you follow my instructions," the doctor replied.

"But I've been exposed to polio," said Elizabeth. "I was babysitting Ginny Walton the day she got sick."

The doctor's expression turned grave. He asked Elizabeth if she could move her feet, and she did so. "It's a good sign that you can move your feet," he told her. "But we'll just have to hope and pray."

Elizabeth was hardly able to get out of bed at all for several days. Paul still had to go to work at the saw mill, but when he was home, he took care of his wife as well as he could, making her chicken soup and feeding it to her and coaxing her to drink orange juice.

On the fifth day, she was finally able to creep around the house attempting to catch up on the badly neglected housework, but Paul came home from work that day looking very pale and shaky and went right to bed without even eating dinner.

"Oh, no!" Elizabeth moaned. Still feeling half-sick herself, she did her best to care for her husband as he'd cared for her, and in several days, he was feeling just a little bit better.

"I think I'll live," he said with a grin one morning as he got out of bed and began to get dressed.

"Are you sure you feel like going back to work?" Elizabeth asked him.

"I've missed too much work already," he replied. "The expenses are piling up."

"But I'm afraid you'll get even sicker," Elizabeth objected.

"Aw, don't worry about me," said Paul. "Do you have any idea how scared I was that you might have polio?"

"I know," Elizabeth said softly. "I was scared to death myself." She placed one hand protectively over her still-flat abdomen.

"Well, thank God you're better now." Paul placed his own hand over hers.

"You be careful," said Elizabeth.

"Of course I will." He gave her a quick hug and kiss and then was gone. He was coughing quite badly when he came home from work that day, but gradually they both grew stronger.

Christmas that year was a bittersweet day for the Waltons. Little Ginny was no longer running a fever and sleeping all the time, but Ben had to carry her, as she wasn't able to walk at all. "The doctor is sending her to a neighboring town for physical therapy," Cindy told the rest of the family. "He's hoping she'll be able to get some of the strength in her legs back and can hopefully eventually walk with a walker and braces."

Cindy looked so sad that Elizabeth wanted to cry. Her heart ached for her young niece. Still, for the sake of the little girl, she put on a happy face and tried to act cheerful. "I'm so glad you're feeling better now!" she told Ginny.

"Yeah, me too." Ginny grinned. "And when I can walk again in the summer, my Daddy's gonna teach me how to swim!"

Elizabeth's eyes met Paul's, and neither of them said anything. "I feel almost guilty when I look at Ginny," she said to her husband later, as he was driving them home.

"Why?" he asked. "It's not your fault she got sick."

"I know." Elizabeth sighed. "It's just that sometimes I feel like I have no right to be so happy and excited about the baby when her life will probably never be the same again."

Paul didn't say anything until they were home. When they were, he took her hands into his own and looked into her eyes. "Look," he said. "What happened to Ginny is very sad, but sometimes things like that just happen. Nobody knows why, and nobody can help it, but it's a waste of time to always be sad about it. Ginny's happy and excited about the future, and we should be happy too. She wouldn't want us just sitting around feeling sorry for her all the time."

"You're right, of course." Elizabeth smiled. "Silly me."

"You're not silly at all," Paul replied. "You're a very loving, caring person, and that's why I love you so much."

January and February passed, and one day in early March, Elizabeth was ironing one of Paul's work shirts when she felt a mild flutter in her lower abdomen. At first she didn't know what it was, but when it happened again, it dawned on her. The baby! She felt a thrill of excitement go through her. I can't wait to tell Paul!

She didn't feel the baby move again, however, until she and her husband were cuddling together on the sofa after dinner, listening to the radio. It was ever so slight but definitely there. She took Paul's hand and gently placed it on her abdomen.

"What is it?" He was puzzled.

"Wait," she said. "Maybe it will come again." A few minutes later, she felt the slight flutter again, and Paul's eyes widened as he grinned with delight. "Maybe he'll be a football player!"

"Or maybe she will be a ballerina," Elizabeth countered.

Paul was still grinning as he shook his head. "Nope, sorry. Football player."