Born To Try

I had never expected anything to happen.

The entire time, some bit of me knew that all I was going to get out of this were some ridiculous overseas postage charges. Millions and millions of fans, countless fan letters... ours would not be seen. And yet, I let Libby talk me into it. "Just in case," she had said to me, adorable eyes wide and imploring. She was very onto the idea, for a Delta fan of only four days.

However, those four days had been extremely packed full of Delta. INNOCENT EYES, fourteen tracks, one hour, fifteen minutes, and twenty-seven seconds. MISTAKEN IDENTITY, fourteen tracks, one hour, twenty-one minutes, and forty-two seconds. DELTA, DVD, six music videos and other performances, over two hours of footage. I don't blame Libby one bit for being absolutely addicted... heaven knows I was.

Delta's story was the most inspirational out there. Cancer at a very young age. It's in remission now, but she lost that beautiful hair in radiation therapy. Not to mention, she's the greatest singer/songwriter/pianist/actor/dancer I know of. I aspire to be like her, even a little. I love her music most of all. It's uplifting. It's true to life. It doesn't sugar-coat things for you, but it won't just try to get you down.

So, Libby and I composed our letter. I was tactful. We wanted correspondence, but not necessarily our own hand-autographed Delta restraining order. I gushed a little about how much I loved her, how well I thought she was going to do as she attempted to tackle the US music market. We signed, sealed, and sent it.

Libby went back to her home the next day, a grin on her face as she immediately asked for INNOCENT EYES for her birthday from her mother. I think she actually did get it.

That was in the middle of the summer. Slowly, the school year started. I fell into all of my old ruts again. I lost just a little more girlish hope with each and every passing day. I began stumbling.

I listened to Delta all I could, but it was only a matter of time before I couldn't hear the messages anymore. My heart was too weighted down for me to be strong, or believe that I was truly born to try.

Christmas came and went. I, personally, love all Christmas-related celebrations. Over December, I relaxed.

After Christmas, however, things only got worse. The new year was not going much better at all than all of the old ones had. I fought constantly with my mother. Stress, piled upon me day after day, began to show through, bleeding through the cracks. I had lost all hope.

To tell the truth, I had forgotten all about our letter to Delta. That was why it was such a surprise to see a letter for me in the mailbox when I came home from school late in January. Written across it in loopy, beautiful cursive was the following: Rachel and Libby, my address, USA. In the top corner, a return address informed me that this letter was courtesy of Sydney, Australia.

I squealed like a little girl. I ran upstairs and into my room, throwing my things down on the bed, and slid my finger underneath the flap to tear the envelope open.

Out fell quite a bit of paper. One piece proved to be a letter to Libby, to more, signed photos. The last was a letter... to me.

I unfolded it quickly and read, heart pounding up in my throat.

"Dear Rachel," it read, "Congratulations for being my first US fan! I'm sorry for getting back to you so late. When you wrote, I hadn't released anything to the US... now, "Lost Without You" should be out. Keep your radio on! I was thinking about "Not Me, Not I" coming out next. What do you think?

"I know, being a great fan of mine, you probably know this already, but keep in mind the following at all times: you're not born to win or born to lose, just to give it your best shot. Keep it up. Love and light, Delta."

Signed on my photo were the words, "To Rachel, who is born to try."