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A Story Passed on By Our Ancestor's!!Please pass
it on.
I write this for my ancestors
who were called slaves. It doesn't seem right to call them slaves; to indelibly etch this inferior title upon them, that even
in death, they cannot have what they sought in life; a name. I am the hope of my ancestors. I am the dream that one day their
children would be free men. And one day someone would speak out for those who's voices were silenced….and it is for
those who today I speak…………
It was a Sunday morning and master allowed us to go to church.
He wore his Sunday best and I wore the tattered clothing that he once owned. I listened from the back house as the minister
preached about the love of God, and love for our fellow man. I almost cried when I heard the choir sing my favorite hymn "Amazing
Grace" afterward they went back home and had Sunday dinner and fed me with the scraps from the table.
The next day
master rose early and came out to the place where I stayed and he beat me…. Master beat me hard…. within the sting
of the pain from his whipping, I couldn't even think of why he was whipping me? After he was done I felt so numb. My mind
wandered passed the pain of the wounds he inflicted. I wondered how a man can treat another like that? How could he walk so
proud in the Lord's house just one day earlier and then wake up the next morning and beat me damn near death??
I worked
hard that day. The burning sun roasted my wounds to scabs, while the sting of the sweat dripping into my flesh reminded me
not to forget the whipping I got that morning. I was so tired that night as I collapsed on the dirt floor. I dreamed that
night….I dreamed an impossible dream … not for myself that one day I might be free…for that dream had been
beaten out of me a long time ago….
I dreamed that my children would some day be free and tell my story; that
my children would write, read, learn and tell the next generation my story…. I wanted them to know that the only thing
that kept me going was the belief and hope that one day they would be free… I want them to tell humanity the truth….
I wanted them to declare that the same God that they spoke about that Sunday at church was the same God that made us both.
I wanted them to tell the world that the color of my skin was just that; my skin. I begged you to tell them that I was a man
just like them and the reason I looked different was because God wanted it that way. And finally, I wanted to tell my children
that if they continue to mistreat you after I had fallen asleep in death if things changed, but not enough to right the wrongs
for all men and woman of the human family…please promise me to do every thing in your power to make it right and pass
my dream on to your children.
+++
John
- B happy, and keep your heart clean soft & generous -
 
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