When learning the waltz, fox trot or rumba, budding dancers have only one goal: pure enjoyment.

The well-being and self-confidence that people exude when they're learning to dance prompted Jeff Lewis Malandra to fulfill a request.

Gahanna resident Rosemarie Rossetti called about a month ago to ask: Could she pick up the lessons she was taking with her husband, Mark Leder, where they ended almost four years ago, when she was injured in an accident?

"Sure, come on in; I'll figure out something," said Malandra, of the Fred Astaire Dance Studio in Reynoldsburg.

He agreed to teach the couple various dances, with her in a wheelchair -- the result of a spinal injury that paralyzed her from the waist down.

"Teaching anyone to dance is a challenge, so I looked at this as just another couple wanting to dance," said Malandra, who has taught for 23 years.

While they commonly instruct folks with other disabilities, dance studios in central Ohio acknowledge rarely teaching people with spinal injuries.

Malandra, too, hadn't worked with a student in a wheelchair.

"Sure, I wondered what her range of motion would be and what strength she had, but, with all my clients, I take them wherever they are and go from there," he said.

In June 1998, before Rossetti was injured, Malandra was teaching the couple dances such as the swing, fox trot and merengue.

"You could tell it was something they both wanted to do, and they wanted to enjoy each other's company," he recalled.

These days, the challenge contributes to the quest to get her life back, said Rossetti, a 48-year-old writer and motivational speaker.

"I kept thinking, 'Here it is, another part of my life gone,' " she said. "Dancing was something we were investing in, and it was something we would look forward to. . . . Then it was gone.

"I thought I would never dance again."

Rossetti was riding a bicycle on a trail near Granville when a tree fell on her, crushing her lower spine and paralyzing her legs below the knees.

Although she walks short distances with assistance, she gets around primarily in a 22-pound titanium wheelchair.

She has sought to become more mobile since the accident, refusing to indulge in self-pity for too long.

"The deal with being disabled means you are limited in some way; it doesn't always mean you are limited in every single way," she said.

A few months ago, Rossetti bought a $40 instructional video showing how people in wheelchairs manage to dance.

The couple, willing to try to relearn the moves, didn't want to rely strictly on the video to show them how to maneuver.

So they enlisted Malandra.

"I watched the video a little bit and got some ideas; then I just took it from there," he said.

He worked with them first on holding each other.

"In this case, which is good, the man is the leader and the woman basically has to follow the man. He's in full control: He slows her down, speeds her up; he has to know the tempo and how fast he can turn her. They actually can communicate with each other with just their arms."

For several years, Leder said, they had tried to dance at social functions "the best we knew how."

"I actually would pick her up and get her out of the chair, and she would just cling on to me," he explained. "We would just sway a little bit because she can't really stand, and that was OK."

With three lessons under their belts, Rossetti and Leder are making some headway.

"Looking at Rosemarie smiling, I feel her vibes when we're dancing now," said Leder, who holds her hands and glides her across the floor while concentrating on timing and foot movements. "The wheelchair doesn't seem to be a barrier to me, as I thought it would be.

"I thought of steel-toe shoes," he added jokingly, "but, so far, we haven't had any real accidents."

When she isn't giggling or looking up adoringly at her 6-foot-4 husband, Rossetti is listening intently to the teacher.

"I need to be in tune to what is going on so I can comprehend what is coming up," she said.

Some of the adjustments have been hard.

"In one way, I'm physically not as close to Rosemarie as I would like to be," said Leder, 43. "You can't slow-dance.

"But since we've grown as a couple through our life experience here . . . that kind of makes up for that."

Dance studios strive to create environments where people can feel comfortable when taking lessons, whatever level they're at.

"Any type of movement such as dance can better someone's life while at the same time it incorporates exercise, which improves quality of life," said Jeff Stein, co-owner of American Dancesport Center, 4004 Presidential Parkway on the Northwest Side.

Stein said several of his clients take lessons for the therapeutic or recreationalactivity, though he has not worked with anyone in a wheelchair as a result of spinal injury.

Mike Neyer, owner of Arthur Murray Dance Studio in Columbus, said he has worked in the past with people with disabilities.

"I think there's a reluctance with people in general, and maybe more so those with a disability, that think they can't learn to dance, so they don't try," Neyer said. But we don't turn anyone away."

"Our first goal is to build self-confidence and then start getting them to move the best they can," he said.

Although he's not self-conscious, Leder says he needs a few more lessons before he will feel comfortable taking what they've learned out in public.

His wife, on the other hand, says it doesn't matter what they look like dancing.

"My motto is going to be 'Dance like no one is watching,' " she said. "It's Mark and I who matter; it's not the rest of the world."