More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
They said little to each other, but there was a comfortable ease between them.
But Mama B also had a steel to her, a quiet strength that Rachel admired.
She had the hardened edges of a survivor, but she had also helped others to survive.
Their sentences flowed into one another, matching in cadence and tone, as if coming from a single mouth.
Rachel looked again at her reflection. Quiet, watchful eyes stared back. There was no fire in them, but they had their own kind of soft, pliable strength.
“We all got our gifts—the things we see that others can’t. All we can do is use them when the time come.”
We may be free, but we will never forget where we came from.’ ”
“Me don’t know much,” he said, “but me know that God love us. And we must take His love and use it to love one another.”
Thomas continued, “Love is the heart of everything. God create us to love, and He send His son to us so that we can love one another better.”
As Tituba finished her song, Kamu, the other Indian man, went into his hut and brought out a drum. He replaced the steady melody with a fast drumbeat that soon had the whole village jumping, twisting, clapping and laughing. Here was a language they all spoke, that needed no words. Mary Grace, spinning out of Nobody’s arms into the center of the crowd, spoke loudest of all, letting her body say what her mouth could not.
That fear held no power anymore.
