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Book Excerpt ... Meet the Triumphant 12
A Legacy Laced with Grace
By Dionne White as told to Carol Padgett
As a black woman whose last name is White and a Southern female whose childhood was laced with loss and violence, I’m here to tell you that things are not always as they seem, labels are not always accurate, and lace is not always a pretty trim for a little girl’s Sunday-go-to-meeting dress. At 29, I survey the laces and lacings of my life with sorrow for the little girl who endured them and gratitude for the grown woman who survived them.

Life Before and After Death
By Pat Nowak
One morning you get a call…your husband has been killed walking across the street, by an uninsured motorist. You’re instantly alone, saddled with debt, bombarded with questions, required to make decisions, and completely clueless about most of what it takes to manage personal and family affairs. And if that wasn’t enough, eighteen days later you lose your home to a devastating fire destroying the last remnant of your sacred sanctuary.

Crossroads of My Life
By Makeda Smith as told to Stephanie Pruitt
Taxicabs carry so many stories. They run through city streets holding corporate executives rushing to boardrooms, estranged friends catching up on missed times, cancer patients retreating home after Chemotherapy. Nineteen years ago, a Chicago taxi was full of me–my packed bags and a personal saga suspended between beginnings and endings, washed in tears.

Handing it Over
By Mary Cox-Bilz as told to Tanya Stowe
While I bathed this morning, a soapy washcloth kept slipping from my teeth to the bathroom floor. Exasperated, I leaned my face on the basin brim and wiggled a long mouth stick between my teeth with my lips. Then I lowered it to the floor, hooked the cloth on the stick’s end, and attempted to raise it. But the cloth fell off the end and flopped to the floor.

Redemption
By Shellie R. Warren as told to Angie Ledbetter
Like that old, worn out song, I looked for love in all the wrong places. What I didn’t realize for many years was that I had only to look within myself to find the love and acceptance of myself through Christ’s love. But one of my saving graces is that I am a fighter, a never-give-up’er, and a person who leaves no stone unturned when on a mission. My quest to truly know myself and to figure out how I’d fallen so far from Christian ideals took me down into the friendships and arms of some pretty shady people, but I pushed beyond that easy comfort and acceptance and did the hard work.

I Just Want to Live: PeDe’s Lessons
By Etta J. DeJean
I was so determined to talk to her that day. She had avoided me for four weeks and I’d had enough. I persistently dialed her number over and over until she picked up. You see, her husband was working and her daughter was in school so that meant no one was there to monitor the calls. After dialing the number again, the phone rang once…twice…three times…four times. I was nervous.

Reach for Recovery
By Maralee Geil as told to Tanya Stowe
I lay on the recovery room gurney, staring at the ceiling. I was groggy, cold and in pain. I’d just had a biopsy. My doctor had told me over and over that there wasn’t anything to worry about. He didn’t think the lump in my breast was malignant. But the minute he walked back through the door, I knew he’d been wrong. I had breast cancer.

An Unknown Gift
By Lindsay Sutton as told to Tanya Stowe
One day a huge transport truck hit my small Mazda. Tires screeched. My car door smashed in with an ear shattering noise. I hit my head on the steering wheel and I don’t know what happened after that. When I awoke, I looked around and saw a lot of blood but I didn’t feel that any bones had been broken. Some part of me realized I was in shock. At the hospital, the doctors said I had a concussion. I felt relieved that the injuries had been so minor. But the doctor was very cautious. He told me that with my kind of injury, “one can never tell.” The next day I went home, certain that I’d had a lucky escape. I was ready to get back to work and to my life.

Through the Mill
By Sherre Bishop as told to Holly Root
Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Sherre Miller Bishop. I got the “Miller” part from my first broadcasting employer. On my start date, my boss informed me matter-of-factly, “Your airname will be Sherre Miller.” I certainly wasn’t going to object. I had grown up in an environment where becoming a news broadcaster was unfathomable. It was a dream come true.

Love Does Conquer All
By Monique Lopez as told to Adrianne Grant
The housing projects in Red Hook, Brooklyn, are synonymous with inner-city problematic situations. Seated just minutes away from the heart of New York City, the neighborhoods are riddled with the remnants of drug abuse and violence with crack envelops and empty bullet shell casings lining the streets. But this is where I grew up and refused to be a product of my environment.

Breaking the Cycle, Defying the Odds
By Johnetta McSwain as told to Jan Walker
... There was barely enough energy left in my body to keep the car on the road. My 12-year-old son sat beside me. So much a boy, yet in some ways a man. His 5-year-old brother was asleep in the back seat. I wasn’t sure what to expect ahead of me as I coordinated my move to a new city and prepared for a new start. But I knew it had to be better than what I was leaving behind. I felt like I was leaving pain and poverty and heading for promise. At least that’s what I hoped.

Defeating Demons
By Rochell D. (Ro Deezy) Hart
Like sweet mangos growing in Portland, Oregon, my life has brought forth seasons of unexpected fruit. Still in my twenties, I’ve already survived physically abusive relationships, overcome a secret pill-popping addiction, and dabbled in gangs and teenage prostitution. During the tumultuous early years of my life, no one knew that my trials would turn into a powerful testimony about the awesome power of the Lord. My struggles—and more importantly, the survival of those struggles—have become the catalyst to a life fervently devoted to empowering women and serving God.
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