Julia Understands Everything : 29 years ago, Julia Tavalaro had a stroke that left her dead to the outside world. But inside, life was burning more fiercely than people imagined. This is the story of that life and her remarkable journey.

With a tiny flashlight, she looked into Julia's mouth. Tenderly, she placed both hands on Julia's throat.

Her hands felt warm, soft and unhurried.

"Try to say hello."

Julia strained so hard it hurt.

Nothing.

Gently, Arlene felt the front and sides of her neck. She moved slowly and carefully. Then she wrote on a clipboard.

"Try to say hi."

Julia strained again.

Nothing.

Arlene wrote some more. Julia was thunderstruck. Arlene was taking her seriously. She felt like she was sitting on a star.

But then she drew back. How much did she dare to hope? Part of her became afraid. What if this went nowhere? It would hurt. She feared the mental pain. It was like falling off the star.

"Well," Arlene said at last. "We are going to get you to talk."

That was reassurring. For the moment, at least, some of Julia's doubts vanished, and so did some of her fears. She gave a tiny smile.

Arlene smiled back.

Perhaps, she added, the feeding tube could come out. How would Julia like to eat?

Julia hardly heard the question. She sensed contentment and peace. It was the first time she had felt like this in years.

Suddenly she was overwhelmed.

Tears came.

"I'll see you in OT," Arlene said and walked out.

She stopped for a minute in the hall. Julia overheard her tell a doctor and then a nurse that Julia was fully aware.

They did not believe her, Julia could tell.

All of her doubts returned, and with a vengeance. Had Arlene meant what she said? Or was she trying to be nice? Maybe Julia misunderstood her?

The test came only a few days later. An orderly wheeled Julia to OT, and Arlene was waiting. She put a hand on Julia's shoulder. Another woman joined them. Her name was Joyce Sabari. She had black hair and dark eyes. She wore dark slacks and a blouse. Together, she and Arlene reminded Julia of Mutt and Jeff, the short and tall characters in a comic strip.

As Joyce watched, Arlene took Julia's face in her hands. Slowly and gently, she nodded Julia's head. It moved about four inches. Then, just as gently, Arlene moved Julia's head from side to side. It moved another four inches.

"Now," Arlene urged softly, "do it yourself."

Julia thought she saw an anxious look. This was it, she thought. This was the time to resolve any doubts that Arlene might have, and this was the time to resolve her own doubts. She might never get another chance.

Straining, uncertainly, Julia raised her head. Reflexively, she lifted her eyes until she found herself looking nearly straight up. Then, just as slowly and tentatively, she lowered her head.

From top to bottom, at least four inches, she figured.

Now she moved her head to the right. It was difficult. She moved it some more. About four inches, she figured, proudly.

Back to the center, and now to the left. That was even harder. Her head budged about an inch.

Was it enough? Had she done it?

Arlene's eyes were large, bright and smiling.

"Wonderful!" she said.

Julia's face pinched. A tear rolled slowly down alongside her nose. Finally she surrendered to boundless and irrpressible gratitude. A flood of tears covered her cheeks and fell across her smile like rain in the sun.

Arlene! she said thankfully to herself, sobbing. Then Julia added two words that she had thought she would never use again. "A godsend."

"Look!" Arlene said, suddenly. "Here come your parents!" She pointed to the left. Julia turned her head all the way and looked. There was nobody.

For a moment, Julia felt hurt. Could Arlene be making fun of her? Why?

"Look at that man!" Now Arlene pointed to the right.

Julia turned her head. Nobody.

Arlene beamed. She put a gentle hand on Julia's shoulder.

"Good," she said softly.

Now Joyce was smiling, too. She would join Arlene in this challenge. With her trick, Arlene had proven to everyone, including Julia, that she could move her head even without deliberation. Julia's doubts disappeared, this time for good.

The next day, at Arlene's request, an aide arrived in Julia's room with a sign. It was hand-printed in block letters on a big sheet of colored paper.

She taped it over Julia's bed.

The sign said:

JULIA UNDERSTANDS EVERYTHING.

*

That discovery and Julia Tavalaro's response saved her.