Life Is Not a Fairy Tale by Fantasia (e book reader free TXT) 📕

MY MOMENT OF

FAITH:WHAT I LEARNED

“For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness: and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.”

ROMANS10:10

It’s always good to listen to somebody. Listen and learn. You don’t know everything even when you think you do. I should have listened to people who have been living much longer than me.

I have learned that prayer does change things.

I have learned to take my negatives and turn them into positives.

I have learned that I can do anything I want if I put my mind to it.

I have learned to let go of the negative; it is irrelevant to me right now. I am becoming a strong woman.

I have learned how to be strong. I have learned not to care what people are sayin’, as long as I’m making a difference in my life. That’s all you have to do—try—to make a difference.

4.Never

     GiveUp

“Girl, you needto do somethingright for the first time.” My grandmother’s hard words lingered in my mind. She was right. I needed to get out of my haze, get back with God, and continue my search for my gift, whatever it was. The problem was, I didn’t even know how to begin or where to look. The time I spent being invisible, hiding behind self-pity, had become a bad habit. It was especially hard because most of my family was in some sort of a haze—either in a drug haze, a smoke haze, or just a plain depression haze. I have been surrounded by people growing up who have had their struggles with drugs and alcohol. Family photos always show the adults in my family with a bottle of beer in their hands or a cocktail, as my aunts used to call those mixes of juice and alcohol. When we kids would ask for a sip, my aunts would always say this is “adult juice.” Everyone’s eyes were red and they all had cigarettes in their hands. When we would pose for pictures with our aunts and uncles, the smell of their hot alcoholic breath would burn our noses, making us want to grow up so we could smell just like them.

Smoking was glamorous back then, and it was especially glamorous in the ghetto, where it seemed luxurious because you had topay for it, which meant you had some money. Smoking was a sign of maturity when I was comin’ up.

Although I didn’t have a real plan for my life, I knew I wasn’t going there—or at least not that far. I had some dreams that I had not yet figured out how to accomplish, but I had dreams. My dreams came from watching the people on the television with their fancy new cars and their big houses. I knew that people who sang could have those things, and I was always amazed that my aunts and uncles who sang didn’t have those things.

Yes, I had smoked a little, but not when I was pregnant and not often because of my voice. Everyone else around me sang and smoked, so I thought, by comparison, that I wasn’t that bad. B. started me drinking, and I did drink too much sometimes, but there are no pictures of me in those days. All my friends in the projects were always posin’ for pictures, showing all the “good times” we had. I never wanted to be in those pictures. I didn’t want that to be how I was remembered.

A lot of people had been suggesting that I try out forAmerican Idol. They all kept saying it. My father’s sister, Aunt Sheryl, and J.B. were pushin’ it the most. Aunt Sheryl had called me and told me about Kelly Clarkson, saying, “There is a white girl who can reallysing ! And then there is a guy named Ruben who is fat but he’s really good, too!” It went on and on and on. Everyone was talking about this TV show that I had never seen. My aunt Sheryl sounded so excited, it was as if theseAmerican Idol victories were personal victories. Seeing all of those young people succeeding with music, I guess, reminded her of me and my big voice that was wastin’ away in High Point, North Carolina, only heard by churchgoers and wedding and funeral guests.

Aunt Sheryl talked about all those singers like she knew them personally, and I didn’t even know what she was talkin’ about. I kept wonderin’, What is thisAmerican Idol?

J.B. did more than talk about it. He came home with all the information about the competition, the upcoming auditions, and the seven cities they were going to that year. One of the cities was Atlanta, which was only four hours away. J.B. knew I could get to that one. Suddenly, this thing calledAmerican Idol seemed more possible than I thought. I was curious about it, since the only thing that was needed was that you sing, and that I could do, without any fear. For once, I could do something without any help from anyone.

My family had never watched the show on television. All we knew was that my aunt Sheryl and J.B. had watched it and recommended it and we trusted them. So I went to my brother Rico and said, “Let’s go to this audition. I want you to take me.” Rico is a singer, too, and he plays bass and drums and he has a natural talent for arranging music. He has a great “ear,” as my father used to say. He has always been interested in auditioning for anything that would get him into the limelight and out of High Point, so he was the perfect driving companion.

As always, we had no money between us, so my grandmother gave us money for gas and Daddy gave us eatin’ money. My mother offered to watch Zion while I was gone. My mother didn’t realize what it would mean, so she offered to take care of Zion