Kelly TaylorThe U.S. to 1876 Professor Ike WheelerApril 8, 2017Slave WomanTo my beloved daughter, A lot has happened in this life of mine and I can only dream about the life you are living and hope that it is much greater than the lone I endured. You my sweet girl, are what kept me going all these years. I knew one day things would turn in our favor. It made all the hard times worth it in my eyes. Another step up in society; still harsh but better. By the time you read this letter I will b long gone but my soul will live on forever. I know you have grown into a beautiful young lady and I couldn’t be more proud of your uprising. So, I just want you to know how it all came to be. I know you don’t know me but I have never forgotten about you. I don’t want you to have questions about your family history. My life was very rigid but I want you to always remember that everything I endured was so you could live a happier, healthier life. It started with a group of us. We were all from a few small farms in the south and worked out a plan to escape. After months of strategic planning and right timing, we took our chance. Talk about one adrenaline rush. The entire time we made our way up north we were constantly looking over our shoulders. We would sneak onto farms at night to gather food for our trip and we were very alert on whether others were around or not. After a few long months and a long journey we arrived in South Carolina. We all decided to try and stick together but we knew it would difficult. None of us had any money so we really only had one choice.
We decided on the large plantation that was nearby. It allowed its workers to contract themselves out for extra money and a few are allowed to rent a plot of land and sow their own seeds to grow their own food. Of course they didn’t make any profit doing so since the owner charged for the seeds. It was field after field of cotton and it was lined with little huts were the farm hands had their own little community. I guess I just see the better in every situation. The house that sat upon the plantation could have fit all the huts inside. It was a two-story, white with red shutters. It had a wraparound porch and the flowers couldn’t of matched any better. It was like looking at a beautiful painting but it was real life. Reality didn’t take long to sit in. It was the start of a new day and it was time to get to work. I had no money so the money for each load I made was kept until I paid off the money I owed for the tools I needed in order to do my job efficiently. After they were paid I was finally able to start saving the money I was making from being a farm hand. The work was tough and the sun was hot. My hands stayed raw. Everybody kept telling me that eventually my hands would toughen up and I was actually hoping they would toughen up fast.