Beverley Muldoon could be forgiven for wallowing in a little self-pity. Life has dealt the courageous mum-of-two a number of cruel blows, but she never feels sorry for herself. Beverley is quite simply an inspiration. Here she tells Kate Wadsworth how her two young sons give her the strength to carry on.

Beverley Muldoon knew she had to be strong for her two young sons after her husband was killed in a tragic accident at work.

On the day of her husband's funeral she told her boys: "Don't worry, I'll always be there you."

But six months after the loss of her husband, she discovered a lump, the size of an egg, in her breast, which turned out to be cancer.

Two years on, and the cancer has now spread to her liver and her back. But far from giving up hope, Beverley has displayed the most amazing courage in the face of such a cruel fate.

Speaking from her home in Airedale View, Cross Hills, near Skipton, 35-year-old Beverley says she believed she had suffered more than her fair share of tragedy following the death of her husband Adrian, affectionately known as Tadge.

She met Tadge on a blind date when she was 17, and following a long courtship she was given the most wonderful surprise of her life.

"Tadge arranged our wedding without me knowing, I only found out about it a few hours before," said Beverley, smiling as the memories came flooding back.

"It was brilliant, everyone knew about it apart from me. For me it was the perfect way to get married. I didn't get the chance to get myself worked up and could enjoy the day free from worry.

"Tadge loved to spring surprises, it was just his style. He was a loveable rogue and was the type to live life for today. Everyone loved him."

But Beverley's happiness was torn apart three years ago when she was told Tadge had suffered horrific head injuries after being involved in an accident at the haulage depot where he worked.

Beverley kept a bedside vigil at her husband's bedside, praying for a miraculous recovery, but despite major brain surgery, he lost the fight for life 13 days later.

Telling her sons that their daddy had died was the hardest thing Beverley has had to do. Jack, just two, was too young to understand and Tom, five, said tearfully to his mother: 'So does that mean I don't have a daddy anymore?'

Beverley added: "He idolised Tadge - the pair of them were inseparable. I felt so helpless. All I could do was give them lots of hugs and cuddles and reassure them I'd always be there.

"All I could think was, I've got two boys, I must keep going for them."

Beverley was still reeling from the shock of the death of her husband when she discovered the lump in her breast six months later, on Christmas Day.

"I was having a shower and found this big lump in my breast. You could have knocked me down with a feather when I discovered it was cancer.

"I thought it would be a cyst because I reckoned I'd had enough tragedy in my life already."

Beverley drew on the same strength which helped her cope with the traumatic months following her husband's death.

She underwent operations to remove the lump and then two to remove her breasts. Listening to her speak, it's clear it was a mother's love for her children which sustained her, rather than concern for herself.

"I was terrified - not for myself, but for the boys. They depended upon me and I couldn't let them down. Their daddy had gone into hospital and never came out. I didn't want them to think the same thing was going to happen to me.

"Losing my breasts was not a big thing to me, I took it in my stride. I had the disease and I wanted to get rid of it."

Beverley made up her mind to tell her children the truth from the start without frightening them.

"I explained that mummy had a poorly boobie and the doctors were going to make it better. My mum even brought them on the ward to see me, so they could see me sitting up and smiling.

"Sometimes it was an effort because I felt so ill but I didn't want them worrying about me. Now when I go into hospital for treatment, they just take it all in their stride. I might get a quick kiss as they're tearing out of the door to play football. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

"The doctors are always asking me how I remain so cheerful. But what's the point of sitting at home and feeling sorry for yourself."

Beverley says she can always rely on her children to cheer her up.

"I've never kept anything from them. The boys call the chemotherapy my bad medicine because it makes me poorly.

"After having chemotherapy my hair fell out and the hospital loaned me a wig. When Tom saw it, he fell about laughing - and that set me off too. It went straight in the cupboard after that."

Last May, Beverley discovered the cancer had spread to her liver and back.

She says: "I've been told I'll never be cured. But that doesn't mean I've given up. There's plenty of fight in me. I want to see my boys grow up more than anything else in the world."

She says she struggles to walk far because of the pain in her back, and she gets out of breath easily - but the devoted mum and the boys still enjoy some great times.

"Jack and I will snuggle up close on the settee and read books, and I like to help Tom with his homework.

"On Sundays my dad takes us for a drive in the car and we sit in the back singing songs. Sometimes, Jack will put his arms around my neck and says, 'Mummy, I love you all the way to heaven.'

Beverley is coming to the end of her latest round of chemotherapy treatment to stop the cancer spreading further and she is looking forward to enjoying a well-earned holiday.

She has made arrangements with members of her close family for the care of her children in case anything happens, but generally such thoughts are far from mind.

"I know some mums who are diagnosed with cancer prepare memory boxes for their children, but I want the boys' memories of me to be living ones.

"Tadge is buried in the churchyard next to their school. The pair of them shout 'Hiya Dad,' when they walk past. I'd like to think they would do the same for me if anything happened. Just because you can't see someone, doesn't mean you can't talk to them.

"The kids don't miss out on anything and I go to the school when there are special events. We live life as normally as possible."

Beverley's amazing courage has recently won her joint second prize in a national Single Mum of the Year Competition, organised by That's Life Magazine, where judges praised her for "Giving her boys a life full of laughter and love while coping with illness and facing up to an uncertain future.

"People often ask where I get my strength from," added Beverley. "The only thing I know is that I've got to get on with life. It would do me no good to sit back and mope or feel sorry for myself. You've got to deal with whatever life throws at you."

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.