Aurelia has a map. You eat your dinner, I’ll eat mine, and afterward we’ll look at the map.”
Well, I was so excited I could barely eat. Miss Aurelia produced a map of Ohio, and I got out Jeremiah’s letters from his snowy trip so I’d be able to guess what towns he and Will might stop in. I don’t know how many times we traced the route from Atwater to Cleveland and then across Lake Erie to Canada, but I know it was enough, for Cass blessed me with a smile. Hallelujah!
W EDNESDAY , F EBRUARY 5, 1851
Will and Jeremiah must have reached Cleveland by now. I’m sure they’ll stay put until they see the boat leavethe dock, so I’ll not calculate or guess about their return, for I’ll be disappointed again. But I hope it’s soon.
Meanwhile, Cass keeps me busy. I wish I could take credit for another good idea, but this one belongs to her.
We looked at the map again this morning. She pointed at a town. “What this place, Lucy? I not sure I remember.”
“That’s Hudson. Halfway to Cleveland.”
“How you know for sure?”
“It says so, right on the map. That word, there.” I pointed. “Hudson.”
“How you learn about words, Lucy?”
“Mama taught me some. Mostly I learned at school. You didn’t get to go, did you?”
She shook her head.
I know most slaves can’t read. Some older folks can, and a few have masters who actually teach them to read the Bible. But way back before I was born, the politicians in most Southern states passed laws that forbid anyone to teach slaves to read.
“Do it be hard? Words?”
“Not really. It takes some time, but anyone can learn it. Even my sister, and she’s only five.”
“How about me? What I got but time?”
“You mean it? You want to learn to read? You want me to teach you?” I wanted to jump up and down, swing Cass in a do-si-do. “We’ll start right away.”
I took to teaching as though I’d been born in a schoolroom. We started with Cass’s name and her children’sand sped through half the alphabet before she grew tired and needed a nap. Cass is as thirsty for learning as a cornfield in a drought.
I rushed downstairs to share the good news with Miss Aurelia. She offered to do all the inside chores, saying that if I can keep Cass happy, that’s the most important job of all. Two days ago I would have complained that nobody could keep Cass happy. Now I can barely sit still till she wakes up.
T HURSDAY , F EBRUARY 6, 1851
Cass is really funny.
“I like the snaky ones,” she said this morning as I taught her the alphabet. “Ssssss!”
She wrote her name in my journal, proud as can be.
Miss Aurelia gave us paper, and I’ve written out each letter and a picture that shows the sound it makes. Cass helped with the pictures, for I can’t draw worth a peach pit. But between us we have the alphabet done, large and small letters. Tomorrow we’ll list the names of her whole family, for Cass works her hardest if the learning tickles her or connects to something important.
F RIDAY , F EBRUARY 7, 1851
Hunger is amazing. Cass has learned more in three days than Miranda learned in three months. Being grown probably helps, but wanting something for so long and then having a chance at it—well, it’s all I can do to get her to take her naps. She’d sit and trace letters from dawn until twilight if we let her. But for the baby’s sake she needs to rest. Even I know that much.
S ATURDAY , F EBRUARY 8, 1851
I’m writing letters to the family and notes in my journal while Cass practices her letters and short words. She asked if she could write something more in my book and so she did. I only helped with the spelling.
8
February
Dear Miranda
,
Another big storm. Have you made snow angels yet? I bet you have. Next time you go outside, please make an extra one for me
.
I have thought about your friend the redbird. Tom is right, Miri dear. Birds are meant to fly. Always
.
When it gets warmer, you and I will put snips of Mama’s yarn outside
Well, I was so excited I could barely eat. Miss Aurelia produced a map of Ohio, and I got out Jeremiah’s letters from his snowy trip so I’d be able to guess what towns he and Will might stop in. I don’t know how many times we traced the route from Atwater to Cleveland and then across Lake Erie to Canada, but I know it was enough, for Cass blessed me with a smile. Hallelujah!
W EDNESDAY , F EBRUARY 5, 1851
Will and Jeremiah must have reached Cleveland by now. I’m sure they’ll stay put until they see the boat leavethe dock, so I’ll not calculate or guess about their return, for I’ll be disappointed again. But I hope it’s soon.
Meanwhile, Cass keeps me busy. I wish I could take credit for another good idea, but this one belongs to her.
We looked at the map again this morning. She pointed at a town. “What this place, Lucy? I not sure I remember.”
“That’s Hudson. Halfway to Cleveland.”
“How you know for sure?”
“It says so, right on the map. That word, there.” I pointed. “Hudson.”
“How you learn about words, Lucy?”
“Mama taught me some. Mostly I learned at school. You didn’t get to go, did you?”
She shook her head.
I know most slaves can’t read. Some older folks can, and a few have masters who actually teach them to read the Bible. But way back before I was born, the politicians in most Southern states passed laws that forbid anyone to teach slaves to read.
“Do it be hard? Words?”
“Not really. It takes some time, but anyone can learn it. Even my sister, and she’s only five.”
“How about me? What I got but time?”
“You mean it? You want to learn to read? You want me to teach you?” I wanted to jump up and down, swing Cass in a do-si-do. “We’ll start right away.”
I took to teaching as though I’d been born in a schoolroom. We started with Cass’s name and her children’sand sped through half the alphabet before she grew tired and needed a nap. Cass is as thirsty for learning as a cornfield in a drought.
I rushed downstairs to share the good news with Miss Aurelia. She offered to do all the inside chores, saying that if I can keep Cass happy, that’s the most important job of all. Two days ago I would have complained that nobody could keep Cass happy. Now I can barely sit still till she wakes up.
T HURSDAY , F EBRUARY 6, 1851
Cass is really funny.
“I like the snaky ones,” she said this morning as I taught her the alphabet. “Ssssss!”
She wrote her name in my journal, proud as can be.
Miss Aurelia gave us paper, and I’ve written out each letter and a picture that shows the sound it makes. Cass helped with the pictures, for I can’t draw worth a peach pit. But between us we have the alphabet done, large and small letters. Tomorrow we’ll list the names of her whole family, for Cass works her hardest if the learning tickles her or connects to something important.
F RIDAY , F EBRUARY 7, 1851
Hunger is amazing. Cass has learned more in three days than Miranda learned in three months. Being grown probably helps, but wanting something for so long and then having a chance at it—well, it’s all I can do to get her to take her naps. She’d sit and trace letters from dawn until twilight if we let her. But for the baby’s sake she needs to rest. Even I know that much.
S ATURDAY , F EBRUARY 8, 1851
I’m writing letters to the family and notes in my journal while Cass practices her letters and short words. She asked if she could write something more in my book and so she did. I only helped with the spelling.
8
February
Dear Miranda
,
Another big storm. Have you made snow angels yet? I bet you have. Next time you go outside, please make an extra one for me
.
I have thought about your friend the redbird. Tom is right, Miri dear. Birds are meant to fly. Always
.
When it gets warmer, you and I will put snips of Mama’s yarn outside
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