Message:
The Biggest Faith in Me
When I was just a little girl (1964), sittin’ out back with my folks, I said plain as day that I wanted to be a nurse.
My daddy laughed right in my face and said, “That ain’t ever gonna happen. We ain’t got no money for that kind o’ schoolin’. And you? You ain’t smart enough anyhow. Best you marry some fella and quit dreamin’ fool things.”
I was 12. I cried and I ran off.
That’s when Miss Lillie, our neighbor, near seventy years old, shuffled through her gate wearin’ them worn-out slippers, holdin’ an old lamp in her hands. She sat down beside me, wrapped her arm ’round me and said, real steady:
"I heard what he said. Listen here, child. Ain’t nobody in this world got the right to snuff out your light. Not even your daddy. Smarts ain’t what folks tell you. Smarts is what you choose to do, even when you’re scared."
She put that old lamp right into my hands.
"This lamp’s old as me. Don’t shine too bright, but it keeps the dark away all the same. Remember this — even if folks don’t believe in you, your own light can still burn for yourself. And if you decide one day to be a nurse, you will. ’Cause your life’s yours, honey, and no man owns it. Marriage? Well, a husband’s supposed to frame you like a diamond in its setting, not smother you. Don’t you go makin’ my mistake, dependin’ on a man. Invest in your own self first. You’ll have time enough for weddin’ bells."
Then she dug out twenty dollars from her pocket — that was near two hundred in today’s money — and said, “Here’s your first payment on that schoolin’.”
From that day on, I went to see Miss Lillie almost every afternoon. She was the one soul who truly cared for me, loved me, stood by me. She became my real family. A year later I found myself a part-time job, started savin’ up. Lillie paid for my prep courses. Daddy never knew — he was sure I’d go straight to the factory the day I turned eighteen. Mama knew, but she didn’t back me.
With Lillie’s help, I secretly applied to Johns Hopkins University. They gave me a scholarship. I came home, laid them acceptance papers down right in front o’ Daddy. He looked once, tossed ’em aside like it was just the phone bill. As I headed out the room, he muttered behind his paper, “Don’t go thinkin’ you’re so smart. We’ll see how long you last.”
Truth is, I was the only one in my family ever to set foot in higher learnin’. Neither Mama nor Daddy had none. But I finished, and I finished strong. At graduation, I only invited Miss Lillie. She was frail already, but Lord, she came.
Five years later, she died, and I simply didn't know how to go on living without her. Yet all she’d poured into me — love, patience, steady faith — it all stayed with me and helped me to move forvard
Daddy passed twenty years on. Before the end, he confessed he never did believe in me. Said he envied me, envy eatin’ him up, that I had the guts to chase my dream while he never did.
I’m glad I lived it my way. And ever since, I tell young folks the same thing Miss Lillie told me. I give ’em words that spark a fire inside. Little sparks make a mighty light. And no one’s doubt, no one’s weakness, oughta put that fire out.
This here’s what we, as people, as humankind, gotta do — for ourselves and for one another. We gotta carry our light, standin’ firm against all that darkness!
Especially nowadays!!
The Biggest Faith in Me
When I was just a little girl (1964), sittin’ out back with my folks, I said plain as day that I wanted to be a nurse.
My daddy laughed right in my face and said, “That ain’t ever gonna happen. We ain’t got no money for that kind o’ schoolin’. And you? You ain’t smart enough anyhow. Best you marry some fella and quit dreamin’ fool things.”
I was 12. I cried and I ran off.
That’s when Miss Lillie, our neighbor, near seventy years old, shuffled through her gate wearin’ them worn-out slippers, holdin’ an old lamp in her hands. She sat down beside me, wrapped her arm ’round me and said, real steady:
"I heard what he said. Listen here, child. Ain’t nobody in this world got the right to snuff out your light. Not even your daddy. Smarts ain’t what folks tell you. Smarts is what you choose to do, even when you’re scared."
She put that old lamp right into my hands.
"This lamp’s old as me. Don’t shine too bright, but it keeps the dark away all the same. Remember this — even if folks don’t believe in you, your own light can still burn for yourself. And if you decide one day to be a nurse, you will. ’Cause your life’s yours, honey, and no man owns it. Marriage? Well, a husband’s supposed to frame you like a diamond in its setting, not smother you. Don’t you go makin’ my mistake, dependin’ on a man. Invest in your own self first. You’ll have time enough for weddin’ bells."
Then she dug out twenty dollars from her pocket — that was near two hundred in today’s money — and said, “Here’s your first payment on that schoolin’.”
From that day on, I went to see Miss Lillie almost every afternoon. She was the one soul who truly cared for me, loved me, stood by me. She became my real family. A year later I found myself a part-time job, started savin’ up. Lillie paid for my prep courses. Daddy never knew — he was sure I’d go straight to the factory the day I turned eighteen. Mama knew, but she didn’t back me.
With Lillie’s help, I secretly applied to Johns Hopkins University. They gave me a scholarship. I came home, laid them acceptance papers down right in front o’ Daddy. He looked once, tossed ’em aside like it was just the phone bill. As I headed out the room, he muttered behind his paper, “Don’t go thinkin’ you’re so smart. We’ll see how long you last.”
Truth is, I was the only one in my family ever to set foot in higher learnin’. Neither Mama nor Daddy had none. But I finished, and I finished strong. At graduation, I only invited Miss Lillie. She was frail already, but Lord, she came.
Five years later, she died, and I simply didn't know how to go on living without her. Yet all she’d poured into me — love, patience, steady faith — it all stayed with me and helped me to move forvard
Daddy passed twenty years on. Before the end, he confessed he never did believe in me. Said he envied me, envy eatin’ him up, that I had the guts to chase my dream while he never did.
I’m glad I lived it my way. And ever since, I tell young folks the same thing Miss Lillie told me. I give ’em words that spark a fire inside. Little sparks make a mighty light. And no one’s doubt, no one’s weakness, oughta put that fire out.
This here’s what we, as people, as humankind, gotta do — for ourselves and for one another. We gotta carry our light, standin’ firm against all that darkness!
Especially nowadays!!