Edsel Edwin Wright was a much anticipated baby.  His parents had waited nine years to have a child and they were overjoyed when they learned they were finally going to have a baby.  Their joy turned to shock, however, when Edsel was born with two deformed legs and a right hand that was missing a thumb and a little finger. 

   “There must be a reason we were given this child,” Margo Wright said.  “It is a blessing that we have him.  We will love him with all our heart and help him be what he is meant to be.”

   “Yes,” Wilhelm Wright said. “Surely he has within him a gift that we can nurture.  We will do all we can to help him discover his purpose.”

   Margo and Wilhelm did as they said.  They loved Edsel with all their heart and encouraged him to participate in activities with other children and enjoy his childhood.  Things seemed to go well until he entered school.  It was there that Edsel experienced rejection and teasing by the other children. Soon he became discouraged. 

   “Why don’t the children like me?” he asked his mother.  “Is it because I’m different?”

   “Perhaps,” his mother said. “Sometimes people focus on what an individual doesn’t have instead of what he does have, and they fail to see how special he is.”

    “Is there something I have that they don’t see?” Edsel asked.

    “Yes, Edsel, I’m sure there is,” his mother said, “However, you will only discover it if you focus on what you have.”

    Edsel wondered and wondered what that something could be.  He decided to do as his mother said and focus on what he had and forget about what he didn’t have.

    One day he came home from school and was so overjoyed he could hardly talk. 

    “Why are you so excited?” his mother asked.

     “A man came to school today and played his trumpet for us,” Edsel said.  “And guess what?”

       His mother couldn’t guess.  “Tell me,” she said.

      “The man played the trumpet with these three fingers,” Edsel said, holding up his hand to show his mother the three fingers on his right hand.  “Three’s enough.  It only takes three fingers to play the trumpet.  Mama, can I get a trumpet and learn to play it with my three fingers?”

    Edsel’s mother had never seen him so excited.  She went directly to the cupboard and got the jar with the coins in it that she had been saving to buy an electric hand mixer.  “The mixer can wait,” she said.  “Come, Edsel.  Let’s go buy a trumpet.  I think we have enough money for a down payment.”

    Edsel got his trumpet and loved playing it.  He practiced and practiced and even took lessons from the man who came to the school to perform.  The man was amazed at how talented Edsel was at playing the trumpet.

    Each year the school had a talent competition and Edsel decided to enter.  He played beautifully and, much to the amazement of the other students, won first place.  He used the prize money to finish paying for the trumpet and had enough money left over to buy his mother the hand mixer she wanted.

    Years went by and Edsel became better and better at playing the trumpet.  Because of his talent he won a music scholarship to attend the local college.  He won many more competitions and eventually formed his own band.  The band became well known and was soon touring the country.

   While on tour, Edsel discovered another talent that he had: composing music.  He began composing music for his own band.  Perhaps it was fitting that the title of his very first composition was called, “Three’s Enough.”



by Charles Milton Lee










I live simple. I laugh. I love. I write. Since retiring, I enjoy writing every day for the sheer pleasure of it -- no hassle, no stress, no pressure. Just pure joy. And I enjoy exploring different genres, attempting to discover where I feel most comfortable. I thoroughly enjoy meeting the interesting people that show up in my stories, delving a bit into their personal lives, and observing how they deal with life. I'm often amazed at what they say and do. I also enjoy the challenge of non-fiction and the amazing things I learn while researching and writing. And for a change of pace, I express myself in oil painting, thoroughly convinced that every painting is not just oil on canvas, rather it tells a story. My family and my faith mean a lot to me. I enjoy being a husband, father, and grandfather. I live simple. I laugh. I love. I write.

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