UNION GAP -- As the graduates of Union Gap School saunter down the aisle, Julie Cruz fixes her gaze on the back of the room.

One by one, the eighth-graders pass her in a sea of bright blue gowns. Cameras click. Video cameras roll, and proud parents clap enthusiastically as their sons and daughters take center stage. But still no sign of Stephen.

When Cruz finally spots her grandson, her eyes begin to water. Sitting in his wheelchair, the brash 15-year-old smiles broadly, a long-stem rose clamped in his teeth.

A deafening applause erupts in the gymnasium, while parents and teachers alike clamor to shake the teenager's hand. Cruz watches it all silently, beaming with joy.

A year ago, Stephen almost died after being hit by a train. And now, defying all odds, he's on his way to making a full recovery.

"I was shocked," Stephen says about his reception at the ceremony. "When I came out, everyone got all crazy. It was weird."

Stephen Smith was hit by a train on April 4, 2007. The accident left a five-inch piece of bone lodged in his brain. He fractured his pelvis, tore his liver and broke his left leg, hip and collarbone.

Doctors told Cruz, who was raising Stephen and his five brothers, that Stephen might die. She didn't believe them. Instead, she stuck by his side during the surgeries, the doctors' appointments and the physical therapy. She refused to give up hope, and she wouldn't let Stephen give up either.

Her perseverance was rewarded last September, when she brought Stephen home from the Willow Springs nursing center in Yakima. That's when the real work began.

"It was really hard," the 60-year-old Cruz says. "It was a learning process."

Cruz had to fire two caregivers who weren't giving Stephen the attention he needed. Lucas and Tony, the youngest brothers at ages 13 and 11, were jealous of the attention Stephen was receiving. And Stephen suffered from bouts of anger, questioning why he didn't die in the accident, Cruz says.

"Stephen would say, 'I wish I'd die," she says. "It was devastating."

That's when her grandsons would tell Cruz to leave the room so they could give their brother a dose of tough love.

"This boy is strong," says 20-year-old Calvin Smith, Stephen's eldest sibling. "He's as stubborn as hell, but we still love him."

As the months passed, Stephen learned to do more things for himself, Cruz says. He picks out outfits and puts them on without help. He brushes his teeth and feeds himself. He even earns money by folding towels and tidying his room.

"His journey has been so inspiring," Cruz says. "We brought him to the mall two weeks after he came home and his smile was so radiant. People were drawn to him."

His teachers feel the same way.

"His drive and his energy and attitude is what's carried him," says Alan Geho, a special education teacher at Union Gap School. "Stephen will also have a special place in my heart. He's such a life force. When he smiles, you can't help but smile back."

Barbara Groth agrees. A psychologist at Union Gap School, she says seeing the gains Stephen has made is extraordinary.

"He was very hard to understand when he came back to school. Now everyone can understand him," Groth says. "He always retained his humor, that never left. ... It's been remarkable the progress he's made."

Much of Stephen's recovery began in March, after he had surgery at Harborview Medical Center in Seattle to replace a piece of his skull. The operation took more than four hours, Cruz says, and when Stephen didn't wake up afterward, doctors feared he had slipped into a coma.

The next morning, Cruz was allowed to see Stephen for the first time.

"I went in and touched his arm. He opened his eyes, and I started singing to him," Cruz says. "He said, 'Grandma, that is so annoying.' I knew then everything would be OK."

Since the surgery, Stephen's balance and coordination have improved. He hears better, he talks with ease and he can stand up.

One of his top priorities is reclaiming his indepen-dence. Although close with his family, he says he doesn't like his grandmother hovering over him all the time, and he doesn't like people treating him like a child.

"I'm still the same person from before," he says. "The only thing different is I can't walk."

Stephen enjoys spending time with his friends and watching TV shows like "Two and a Half Men" and "Scrubs." He's made no plans for the summer, but he's eager to attend -- and graduate from -- Eisenhower High School.

While others are impressed with his forward thinking, Stephen takes it in stride. He credits his survival to chance, and he isn't satisfied with the gains he's made.

"I want to walk," he says, adding that doctors tell him anything is possible if he puts in the work and continues his physical therapy. "I think, by the time I walk, I'll still be mad because I'll want to go faster."

Even when he gets down on himself, Cruz continues to serve as Stephen's dogged advocate. She's impressed with his tenacity and fortitude, his strength and his wit. He may be a teenager, she says, but he's already taught her more than she ever thought possible.

"He's helped me understand life better," Cruz says. "No matter what happens in life, there is a better tomorrow, a stronger tomorrow. You don't walk it alone."

* Erin Snelgrove can be reached at 577-7684 or esnelgrove@yakimaherald.com.