gathering days…seventy nine
I heard Condoleezza Rice speak at an event recently. She spoke of her position in the White House, the people she had met around the world, her family and faith. At the conclusion she said this:
“I was a little girl from Birmingham, Alabama, daughter of a preacher, whose childhood friend was killed during church with a homemade bomb.
A girl who was told she couldn’t sit at the Woolworth’s counter to eat a hamburger, but she could grow up to be President of the United States…and ended up being Secretary of State.”
While society told her one thing, her parents told her another.
If we are limited by what we have been told, maybe we are listening to the wrong voices.