Angels in de water, walkin' by de light;
Po' sinners stand in darkness an' cannot see de light!
A broad smile flowed across her black face as I entered the cabin. She placed her needle aside, exclaimed: "Law me, honey, I's always proud when de white folks drap aroun'; an' dat's directly so."
"Charity," I said, "I want you to tell me about slavery times."
She lowered her head in thought a moment, said:
"Honey, what would I tell?"
"Just all you remember, Charity."
And this is what she told:
"Honey, I was borned Charity Grigsby, but I married Nelson Grigory; ain't much 'stinguish in de names; but 'twas a little. My pappy was Dan'l Grigsby an' my mammy was Mary Moore. See, us belonged to Ol' Mister Jim Moore right up yonder 'bove Sumterville near Ramsey Station.
Charity Grigsby, Livingston, Alabama