“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.”

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

“However, the path of God is unknown and deep are the waters. Often do we see what is pleasing, take a sudden turn of providence, that deprives even the most Godly of their happiness. We should not fear theses changes and trust that all things work for the greater good.”

“Yet, the quest for knowledge will overcome us and we must know. And, at last, we must see where the road ends, even if it be the cliff.”

“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.”

“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!”