“I am a survivor. But I am not unique of the people that survived the great late war. We all have our stories to tell. But for most of us the hardened corners have soften with the passage of time.”

“We Southerners are a strong lot. Like our ancestors before us, we will survive. I will never lose faith. I am standing on the promise that tomorrow will be a better day.”

“I am strong as steel and my roots are planted deep in this southern soil. Time may have weathered me, but I will always bend with the wind”

“I am reminded that the children we birth do not belong to us. They belong to God. We are simply the vessel through which they arrive on this earth. We are appointed to care for and guide them; however, we must recognize when the time comes for them to govern their own lives.”

“Have you forgotten me?by Nancy B. BrewerThe bricks I laid or the stitches I sewed.I was the one that made the quilt; a drop of blood still shows from my needle prick.Your wedding day in lace and satin, in a dress once worn by me.I loaned your newborn baby my christening gown, a hint of lavender still preserved. Do you know our cause, the battles we won and the battles we lost?When our soldiers marched home did you shout hooray! Or shed a tear for the fallen sons. What of the fields we plowed, the cotton, the tobacco and the okra, too.There was always room at my table for one more, Fried chicken, apple pie, biscuits and sweet ice tea.A time or two you may have heard our stories politely told.Some of us are famous, recorded on the pages of history.Still, most of us left this world without glory or acknowledgment. We were the first to walk the streets you now call home,Perhaps you have visited my grave and flowers left,but did you hear me cry out to you? Listen, my child, to the voices of your ancestors. Take pride in our accomplishments; find your strength in our suffering. For WE are not just voices in the wind, WE are a living part of YOU!”

“It appears to me that man must always have war. When one great rebellion ends, another will begin. Do they fight for a great cause or is it egos that must be conquered?”

“Our passion for fear consumes us and gives birth to the imaginary. Once fear is unleashed, it feeds upon us and rips us apart like a wild animal. Its hold is great, narrow is the escape and treacherous the road. I know of what I speak, for I was once his victim.”