Chapter 1

Never Lose Faith

It was a cold day in January 1987 when I said goodbye to Sala. I didn't know it at the time - or perhaps I simply wasn't ready to accept it - but my friend was dying.

Sala Burton was a Congresswoman from California whom I had known, along with her late husband, Phillip for many years. She was one of the women I admired most, as well as a close friend.

Everyone respected Sala and knew not to underestimate her. She looked like Mother Earth, she spoke with a Polish accent, she didn't drive a car. She gave off an intense warmth - if she liked you. She was passionate about what she believed in, very dispassionate about her politics.

Sala was like family to me. She loved my children, and was especially close to my two oldest daughters, Nancy Corinne and Christine. Nancy Corinne started college shortly after Sala went to Congress, and called us one day to say that she needed a car.

"Why do you think you should have a car in college?" my husband, Paul, and I asked. With five children, providing each one with a car in college was not in the budget.

"I need a car for Sala," Nancy Corinne said. "I have to drive Sala around."

So from San Francisco we sent our old Jeep Wrangler, and it was quite a sight to see Nancy Corinne driving the dignified Sala Burton around Washington in a car with removable windows.

A couple of years later, Sala became ill with cancer. We thought she could win any battle. But this was one she could not.

And so the time came to say goodbye. Anyone who has ever visited a friend who is dying will know how hard it is. The astonishing thing to me, however, was her selflessness. Despite my protests, what she wanted most to talk about was me.

A circle of her friends, whom she had summoned, gathered around her bed. Solemnly she announced the sad news: she would not be seeking re-election because she was very ill. She then turned to me and asked me to run for her seat. She wanted me to accept her endorsement on the spot.

"Sala, please don't talk this way," I said. "You're breaking my heart." I still held out hope that she would get better. Finally, she convinced me that my agreement was the only answer that would bring her comfort and so, with great sadness, I promised I would.

I often look back on that day in wonder.

We all admired Sala's strength and grace, but what was striking was the faith she had in me. Sometimes it takes the encouragement of someone who knows us well to propel us forward in ways we would never have dreamed. I was confident in my abilities and accomplishments, but Sala's faith in me was so unshakable that it made me determined to live up to it.

And so I ran for Congress - and won. I was 47 years old, a mother of five, happily married, and never - not even once - thinking or wanting this to happen to me. In the campaign, I had to face many challenges. Like many women, I was hesitant to talk about myself and my achievements, but I believed deeply in everything I said about the issues.

What lifts you up, what helps you to grow, is the excitement of the people around you. When I announced my candidacy in mid-February that year, I walked into the ILWU union hall expecting to see a few friends and reporters and instead, there was a large, enthusiastic crowd. Their support made me determined to win, not just for myself, but for all of them.

Twenty years later, as I was sworn in as the first woman Speaker of the House, faith, again, was very much on my mind. I thought of all the women throughout American history who had faith that one day we would achieve equality with men.

As I accepted the gavel, I told my colleagues:

"This is an historic moment - for the Congress, and for the women of this country. It is a moment for which we have waited for more than 200 years. Never losing faith, we waited through the many years of struggle to achieve our rights.

"But women weren't just waiting; they were working. Never losing faith, we worked to redeem the promise of America, that all men and women are created equal. For our daughters and granddaughters, today we have broken the marble ceiling.

"We have made history, now let us make progress."

Copyright © 2008 Nancy Pelosi. All rights reserved.