From Victim to Victor

By Prophetess Sylvia Smith

In the opening you will find Prophetess Sylvia Smith nervously thinking about the service God has instructed her to have. Shes questing Gods choice for her to have this service but with the encouraging words from her son and husband shes ready when its time to leave. At the church as she stands at the pulpit is where she goes back in time in her mind back to the skinny little girl who lived with the secret of the people who would become her foster parents Mr. Ben who has been molesting her from the age of four and Mrs. Connie who physically and verbally abuse her daily.

Her life goes from bad to worse when Mr. Ben who has been telling her he had to get her ready for him to show her a fathers love rapes her, and Mrs. Connies cousin and her friends rapes her then a nurse comes to the school she attends and talks about good and bad touches and tell the students to tell so she get up the courage to tell Mrs. Connie who puts her out of the house when there was no company over, so she starts stealing from the local grocery store to survive after getting caught stealing she tells the manager of the store why she was stealing he rapes her too her life became a survival game from there.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 29, 2010
• ISBN: 9781453551516

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Copyright © 2010 by Prophetess Sylvia Smith.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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This story you are about to read although it is a true story some of the names has been changed to protect the innocent family member of my abusers.

CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks to the following:

First to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ who without the shedding of your blood I would be lost.

My husband Pastor James H. Smith you are my hero!

My best friend of thirty two years Michele Johnson and the Henry Snyder High crew thanks for the laughs.

To my children, Kathrina, Joseph, Christopher, and Amanda, Thank you all so very much for taking care of me and never complained when you should have been enjoying being children I love you all so very much.

To my Spiritual children, its too many of you to name but you know who you are I thank God for all of the issues you came with we concord them together.

To Charlie and Betty Spann for taking in my children in my time of need I am eternally grateful.

To my spiritual mother Pastor K. Comer for not giving up on me when others did you are a true woman of God.

Bishop T. R. Wooldridge you saw something in me that I didn’t see in myself the prophecy has come to past.

To Pastor Karen Pinkney for never sugar coating anything you had to say to me it made me strong.

To Pastor Annette Harmon for the push, your words of encouragement helped me to complete this assignment.

To the Meyers family for excepting me as one of your own.

To everyone at Xlibris for making the publishing of this book so easy (especially Andera and Gina!)

CHAPTER 1

In this life, we will have ups and downs. There will be people who will be for us and who will be against us, but if we keep the faith and know that no weapon that is formed against us will prosper and know within our hearts that we can do all things through Christ because he strengthens us. Know that when things are at their worst and at our weakest moment in life, that is really when we are at our breakthrough.

As you read my story, you will see God had a plan for me, and he loved me even when I didn’t think he did. You can move forward. I did. I pray that you will be delivered from hurt and pain. As you remember things from your past, I do believe Satan had a plan for me to curse God and die, but God had a plan and that is for me to live.

It was September 2002, my first Women of Victory service. The Lord had given me the task of bringing women together to give their testimonies of what God had done for them. It was all about deliverance and glorifying God.

I got up that Saturday morning, looked out the window to see the sun shining. It was a beautiful day. As I slowly walked into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, I asked the Lord to order my steps as I got ready for the day. I went out on the porch and sat down. As I closed my eyes to listen to the birds giving their praises unto God, I could hear the leaves on the trees swaying in the wind. It was a peaceful morning. I could even hear an owl far off in the distance. I thought about the service. I asked God, Are you sure I’m the one for this? My oldest son came to the door and asked if I was OK. I replied, I’m fine, as I stood up to go inside. He placed his hand on my left shoulder, looked into my eyes, and said, Don’t worry about tonight, Mom, you’ll be great. God knows what he wants to do through you, so let him. As we walked inside, joy filled me from my head to my toes. My son was in tune with me and, at that moment, with God. I giggled to myself. I went to my bedroom and sat on the bed and picked up my Bible. The day seemed to go by so fast. I looked at the clock. It was five thirty already. I took a shower and got dressed. I was walking out the door when my husband, the man who knows so much about the Word of God, took my hand and asked if I was nervous.

Very, I replied as I rubbed my stomach. It felt as if a thousand butterflies were in it. In a gentle voice, he said, Just trust God, and you will be OK. I thought to myself, This is going to be a night to remember, and I was the host. Then the negative thoughts started. I knew it was the enemy. What were you thinking? Most of those people you invited don’t even like you.

I knew that was one of the ways Satan himself would try to get you not to do what God had for you to do; I knew God was going to do something great tonight. Pastor Comer would always say, If the devil doesn’t try to stop what you say God has told you to do, you better go pray again.

I prayed all the way to the church. As we drove up on the church grounds, I saw Pastor Comer’s car. It was a comfort for me to see her there so early. She was the only woman of God that I knew of who loved God and his Word so much that she would have a scripture about whatever you wanted to talk about. Meeting her helped me to understand the Word of God. And I thanked God daily for bringing me to the city of Jacksonville. Pastor Comer is my mother in the Lord, and even when she would rebuke someone, it was in love, and all you could do was repent because you knew you were wrong or out of order. As I walked in, people were already there waiting for the service to begin. It was time to start, and most of the people had not gotten there. My heart was sad. I asked God why he would put me through this. He just replied, Trust me. So we started the service with prayer. I asked Sister Marvetta to pray. I knew she could pray me through. God had anointed her to pray, and when she prayed, you knew in your spirit that God had heard her. I slowly lifted my head, and the people were coming in. We had a packed house. As I sat in the pulpit, looking out at the congregation, our bishop looked over, checking to see if I had on my shoes. I didn’t. He mouthed with a smile, My barefoot prophetess.

I thought to myself, If Mother could see me now, what would she say? God had used me, the nappy-headed black bastard that she said would never be nothing," to bring all these people together.

My mind went back in time. I could hear the radio playing Get Your Lies Straight, Toonie and Sugar dancing in the living room with friends, doing the bump and the funky chicken, dressed in halter tops and miniskirts. These were the days of fried chicken and hot combs on the stove at the same time. If you moved half an inch, you got burned, and for some reason, a cold chill would go all over your body. Mother would say, Hold your head down! I had held it down so long I fell asleep, but getting to what we called the kitchen was worth it all to look like you had good hair until you started sweating, then it was all over. There was something about that aroma that said home no matter how bad it was.

The good times made the bad go away for a little while. Even in the hardest times of my life, songs would come on the radio by James Brown, the Temptations, or Marvin Gaye, and I would get lost in the music. When the Jackson 5 or the Sylvers came on one Saturday morning, I got into a fight with one of the girls from the backstreet. I had just cut out my Jackson 5 record from the back of the Sugar Bear cereal when she walked up and took it. She didn’t know I was the faster runner. I ran her down before she could get out of the yard and took it back. I had begged for those cereals for a week just to get that record, and there was no way I would let her have it. Mrs. Connie saw us fighting and called me in. When I told her what had happened, she took my record and put it in her room. Mr. Ben gave it back the next day after he had finished with me. He said he noticed I kept looking at it on the dresser.

Most of the girls would fight about whom they were going to marry. I didn’t have that problem. I was going to marry Henry The Fonz Winkler from the Happy Days. He was the coolest guy on TV, and everybody was afraid of him. I even got to talk to him on the phone one day. I got a beating when that phone bill came, but I didn’t care. I talked to him for five minutes about how I loved the show. All he said was Thank you, I’m happy to hear that. He even asked for my name. I thought he was going to say it on the show one day. It made me feel like I was walking on air all day. He never said my name though.

My brother Joe and I had been coming to Mrs. Connie’s day care while our mom worked at a jewelry store downtown. She would pick us up every day after work, but on Saturdays, we got to stay at home with my aunt. Then one Saturday afternoon, I was on a bike with my aunt when my right big toe got caught in the chain, and I had to be rushed to the hospital. The doctor in the emergency room said I would have to wear special shoes if my mom didn’t get it fixed. Mom said she would get the money one way or another. Black people had to pay for everything up front then. After that day, we had to go to Mrs. Connie’s every day. Weeks went by, but Mom did just what she said. One day, she picked us up and told me she had the money we needed for the doctor to fix my toe. Then one day, my mom just didn’t come back. Mrs. Connie said we had to stay with her and Mr. Ben. Mrs. Connie was a tall, slim light-skinned woman with long soft black hair. Back then, darker people would call people with her skin tone high yellow. I wondered why. Every yellow color I saw looked nothing like her. Her mother was half white, but she looked like she was all white. Mrs. Connie was the oldest of fifteen children. Her sisters and brothers lived out of the state, except for one sister that lived out in the country. Mrs. Connie’s husband, Mr. Ben, was shorter than her. He was very dark-skinned and skinny. He wore a uniform like Barney on The Andy Griffith Show. He even had the hat that was too big! He was some kind of security guard at a home for bad boys. He had one daughter who lived with his ex-wife. She was nice to me all the time. Her name was Toonie. There was another girl who lived in the house. Everybody called her Sugar. She was tall and skinny. She looked like a doll with a short Afro and pretty skin. Mrs. Connie said she got her the day she was born because her own mother didn’t want her.

All the houses on the street were