A Modern Madonna

by Caroline Abbot Stanley

"I thought once I'd go to Miss Julia, but when old Major De Jarnette had that look on his face there wa'n't anybody that dared to coax him—not even Miss Julia. Of course, it wa'n't worth while to go to the neighbors. Major De Jarnette owned us and he had a right in the eyes of the law to sell us, together or separate. The neighbors couldn't go ag'in' the law to save the partin' of mother and child. But, Miss Margaret, ef I'd been a white woman I would have taken that child and gone!"

Margaret looked at her with startled eyes, but the old woman went on.

"When I set down there I says to myself, 'I will have my child! There ain't nobody can take her away from me!' But when I'd think of one way to save her it seemed lak there was a stone wall set right down in front of me. Then when I'd turn another way, there was that same stone wall, and I couldn't do anything but beat my head ag'in' it. I thought and thought and thought tell the fire went out and Cass had gone to sleep on the flo', and at last I jes' says out loud, 'It ain't no use! I've got it to stand! There ain't nobody can help me!'

"Honey, it seemed lak I couldn't git my breath. I got up and went to the do' and looked out. The stars was shinin' kinder happy like, and when I looked up at the house I could see the lights all glimmerin' and hear the tinkle of Miss Julia's piano. It seemed lak they wan't no mis'ry in the world, cep'n right here in this little cabin. 'What made the difference,' I said, shakin' my fist at the stars and the lights. 'What did the Lord mean by givin' me a white woman's heart, and then givin' a white man power to sell my child away from me?' He didn't know! He didn't keer!

"Honey, the Lord seemed a long way off then. Seem lak He was where there was light and music and frien's too, and didn't know my heart was breakin'. How could He know?... Jes' then some words come into my mind jes' lak somebody had spoke 'em to me. I had heared 'em down in old Figinny. 'For God so loved the world that He gave His only son to die—' I couldn't remember the rest, but I jes' hung on to that much, and said it over and over. 'God so loved the world—that He give His only son—His only son—to die! God loved us so ... His only son!' Why, He did know!

"I shet the do' and went and layed down on the flo' by Cass. I didn't pray. There wa'n't nothin' to pray for. I knowed it couldn' be helped. I jes' said, 'Oh, Lord! Lord! Lord! Lord!' Miss Margaret, ef ever you've talked to the Lord without usin' any words you'll know what I mean. Ef you haven't, I couldn't make you onderstand. 'Twas jes' lak Cass comin' and puttin' her head down in my lap and sayin', 'Mammy! Mammy!' and then I'd put my hand on her head and say, 'Mammy knows!' and that was all.

"Well, after a while I got up and waked Cass, and the child looked at me with her big starin' eyes like she was 'feared of me. But I set down in the chimly corner and tuk her on my lap and then she was wide awake. I told her about how she had been sold and how it wa'n't likely she would ever see Mammy any mo'. But I says, 'Honey, ef you try to be good, and never steal or tell lies, or do anything that you know is wrong—anything, honey, no matter what it is—there 's a place we'll git to after a while where there can't nobody part us.' And, Miss Margaret, the child stop her cryin' and look up at me, and she say, 'Where is it, Mammy? Le' 's go now.' And I says, 'It's heaven, child!' and then she begun to cry, 'cause heaven seems a long way off, you know.

"Well, after a while I put her to bed, and then I got her clo'es ready and made 'em in a little bun'le and then I got to stud'in' 'bout who would wash her clo'es and mend 'em, and it jes' 'peared lak I couldn't stand it noway. While I was gittin' the things together I come across her big rag doll where she had jes' put it to bed—(Cass was always a mighty hand for dolls),—and I put it in the bun'le. I thought it would help her maybe to git through the first few nights. Then I laid out her clo'es, and darned her stockin's, and blacked her shoes, and when there wa'n't another thing I could do I laid down by her and tuk her in my arms like I useter when she was a baby, and laid there the blessed night, never once closin' my eyes ... Miss Margaret, don't cry, child! I haven't shed a tear sence that night.

"Well, in the mornin' I got her ready, and when I seed 'em comin' I tuk her in my arms and looked in her face fur the las' time, and laid her little head on this old breas' where it had laid so many times, and give her one las' kiss, and then I opened the do'.

"'She's ready,' I says, puttin' her outside. And then I shet the do'. I heared the overseer—it was him that had come with the man—say, 'Well, she don't seem to take on much,' and the nigger-trader, he says, 'Naw, they don't have no feelin' for their chil'n.'"