Georgia was unusually restless this time of year with thoughts of freedom being foremost in the hearts and minds of every slave.  Across the South anticipation of slavery ending sliced through the thick humid days like a knife to butter, filling slaves with hopes of a new promised land and equality, while inciting fear and terror in the minds of plantation Owners, large and small alike.  No fine upstanding citizen or genteel southern lady dare dream of dirtying their lily-white hands doing menial tasks. 

Sissy and Dabney wouldn’t have to move far from the plantation.  Master George and Miss Millie had deeded them a parcel of land on the corner of the plantation.  “You have been wonderful to us. You have become family and we want to do what’s right by y’all”, said Miss Millie as her voice cracked, trying to hide the tears.   George wouldn’t have gone quite that far but everything belonged to Miss Millie’s family, so he couldn’t protest much.   George was awful crotchety and had been from the time he took sweet young Millie and her money to be his wife at the tender age of 14.  He fought something fierce with her all the time, even resorting to slapping her round that is when Sissy wasn’t around.

Sissy did her best to protect Miss Millie from harm most her married life.  On one occasion George came home in a particularly vile mood.  He drunkenly raised his hand to Miss Millie in an effort to knock her to the ground, but Sissy hit him over the back with a fire place poker to which he responded with physical retribution against poor little Sissy, not even caring she was just newly married to Dabney or that Miss Millie was crying and pleading for him to stop. 

Margaret Louise, Sissy and Dabney’s eldest was 17 now just barely a woman, but Sissy had taught her young to cook, wash, and sew.  Nathan was younger than Margaret but learned the rules of farming from Daddy but was still too small to work the plow alone.  Working the fields was hard work, but the family enjoyed reaping the harvest now. It was different working your own property. 

Now Sissy didn’t mind too much getting cottonseeds stuck in her hair or the smell of fresh plowed corn stalks.  Dabney and Sissy sometimes couldn’t believe they were free.  Most folks were courteous,  but  there 
were still those men who just couldn’t accept the fact that blacks weren’t slaves anymore and had no use 
for them. That awful sweltering night would forever burn in Margaret’s mind. 

Sissy blood-curdling screams reverberated, “fire, fire, wake up, and get out of here!” 

Margaret found herself wrapped in the family quilt lying next to a burned down pile of rubble that used to be her home. Running down the dirt lane was Miss Millie screaming and yelling for Sissy. 

Margaret met her at the gate with tears gushing.  She fell into Miss Millie’s arms and slid down to the dirt.  “Their gone, Miss Millie, their gone.” Cried Margaret.  Miss Millie gently patted her head and began looking around. 

She found what was left of Dabney first, then pulled some boards off Sissy’s badly charred body.  Sissy was still holding Dabney’s hand close to her chest as she laid half way out the door.  Tears coursed down Margaret’s cheeks as she screamed loudly to the heavens. Margaret frantically began calling for Nathan, stillness was the only response.  Silence echoed for miles as if the land was mourning the loss of a family’s love.  Now the only thing she had was the quilt mama had told her about.  It had been handed down from generation to generation, each square telling the story of who and where.  Mama said “nothing else much matters.  This is our life, our history.” 

Margaret had no one to turn to as all the freed slaves had moved on and Nathan was nowhere to be found.  Everyone just figured the poor little guy had burned up in the fire. It was daddy’s dream to live out west so Margaret decided to head west.  Miss Millie saw to it she had a good horse, some food and a little money for her journey and promised to take care of Nathan if he was found. Margaret promised to keep in touch as she rode out to meet the sunrise toward an unknown future with tears streaming down her face. 

Heading down a dirt road she got tired and decided to rest by a big fallen oak limb.  As she wrapped up in the quilt, something poked her so she mashed the quilt finding something inside.  She carefully pulled the stitching away and beneath the squares with Dabney and Sissy’s names were pictures of the family and money Mama had sewn into the lining.  Now she knew why mama cherished the Quilt so.

What a blessing this was to her spirit.  Shivers ran through her soul as she could almost feel her mama and papa’s love envelop her. Just as she started to rest she heard a whimper from under a bush.  Looking closer she found the cutest little puppy she ever seen.  It wasn’t hard to coax him out with a piece of jerky and they became fast friends, lying together on the blanket chewing jerky and cuddling close to keep warm. Margaret was happy for the company but didn’t know what to do with him.  Surely he has to belong to somebody she thought while stroking his neck. 

Next morning was bright and warm so she gathered her belongings and headed out with the puppy following close behind.  Days passed without seeing much of anybody so Margaret was grateful for his company.  Knowing he was just a pup and must be getting tired she put him up on the saddle with her and he seemed to prefer to ride rather than walk. She knew she had to find a town to stop at soon for she was running low on food and was tired and hungry. 

Coming to what looked like a very small Town she climbed off her horse and began walking.  Just as she began to take a step she heard the most vicious words she’d ever heard.  “What’s the matter Niger can’t you read?  Shaking her head no, the boy continued: The sign says, “No Niger’s allowed.” 

Once again tears cascaded down her face as she mounted her steed and headed out.  Barking followed her along the way getting louder and sounding a bit anxious so she went in the direction of the barking finding the puppy close to a stream barking at a couple boys.  She heard one boy crying out.  Looking out the corner of her eyes she saw that same awful boy from town walloping blow after blow upon another child.  She yelled at the boy but he ignored her until she got so mad she raised her arms in a menacing fashion, curled her hands as if claws and growled her loudest.  She almost felt bad as the boys eyes got big as melons and dropped his hands turning away and ran as fast as his short stubby legs would carry him, hot footing it back to town with clouds of dust behind him; all the while the puppy nipping at his heels. 

Margaret fell to the ground laughing while the badly shaken and bruised boy laughed so hard she couldn’t tell if his tears were from being hit or joy from the bully getting chased away by a tiny bit of a girl and puppy.  Slowly she got to her feet dusted herself off and held out her hand to help him up. Taking her hand he sheepishly inquired, “You a Niger?  I ain’t never seen one before. Well firstly what be your name?  I’m Willie, Willie Malone.” 

“OK, that’s better I’m Margaret.  So nice to meet you Willie.  Why’s that boy a picking on you, Willie?” 

His small eyes widened as they filled with tears.   Willie stepped back so she could see the braces on his legs, “’Cause of these, Margaret.” 

“Willie, my boy, no more tears.  Willie, what color you say I is?” 

Without hesitation he stated, “You is pitch black.”  She told him it would be nicer if he called her black instead of Niger. She explained how that word hurt her feelings and “just cause folks are different on the outside doesn’t mean they haven’t got a heart.” 

With compassion she told him,  “We all got different packages, Willie, but we all the same on the inside.” 

Willie nodded and apologized.  “I getting kind of hungry Margaret, How about you?”  “I sure enough is, Willie,” she said wiping her mouth. Margaret told how she’d lost her family and was trying to make her way west for a new life.  Willie told her about his hopes of being a doctor and helping people. Margaret smiled and told him he’d be the best doctor ever.  She added, “Willie, my boy, just follow your heart and be true to who you are and everything will be all right. You’re a special boy, Willie. I could tell that first time I saw your eyes. God gave you a special kind gift in your heart.” 

Those words were medicine to his wounded spirit so without giving it another thought he hopped to his feet and headed toward town.  Margaret yelled so he could hear, “Where you going, Willie boy?”  But he just waved and kept walking.  Margaret sat on the tree stump and listened to the running water just a drinking in the peace.  She was beginning to worry when here came Willie, hobbling up to the tree stump with the puppy close behind and plopped down with a basket. 

Willie said, “I got us a feast, Miss Margaret. My daddy owns the mercantile and I got you some food for your trip.” 

Before eating, Margaret reached over to take Willie’s tiny hand in hers and squeezed it tight and bowed her head to say grace. They both ate like little pigs.  Margaret handed Willie some money for the food, stretched her arms, yawned and told Willie how thankful she was for his kindness and how  the  world would be a much nicer place if more people were just like him. Willie’s face flushed as he grinned from ear to ear.  Willie was tired too and stated he’d better be getting home before dark. 

Before he left Margaret asked Willie to help her name the puppy. Without much thought they agreed on Nippy for nipping at the bully’s heels.  She smiled as she watched him wave good-bye, stretched out on the blanket and soon fell to sleep under the star lit summer’s night with Nippy lying next to her under the blanket, both with satisfied tummies, and renewed Hope for a brighter future with the likes of Willie Malone. 

Next morning she came in to a small town that had a church.  She cautiously walked up the stairs when she heard a voice asking; “You say a prayer for me in there won’t you? They don’t look too friendly on my kind going inside the house of the Lord.” 

She slowly turned and gazed upon the most beautiful white woman she’d ever seen.  Her dress was red, ruby red with feathers and lace. Her hair was as red as her dress.  She’d never seen hair that red in Her life. 

Margaret nodded, “Yes, Ma’am. I most certainly will.  My Mama told me God don’t care who you are or what you’ve done, nothing can separate you from the love of the Lord.” 

As she slowly wrapped her hand around the doorknob, she thought of how sad it was that folks didn’t get along better. As she turned the creaking knob and entered she was startled when the door fell completely off the hinges. 

Looking around she noticed the back of the church was completely burned out. As if by invitation the altar was still standing beckoning her closer. The kneeling bench was covered with soot so she placed her scarf upon the bench and kneeled to pray. Nippy seemed to understand what was going on because he rested his head on the bench as if deep in thought. 

Folding her hands and bowing her head she softly sang Amazing Grace.  It had been one of her mama’s favorites and she was surely surprised she even remembered the words.  Before saying amen she added, “Lord please guide and protect me as I pass through this town and please help that pretty lady with what’s troubling her.  She looks like she ain’t even got a friend.” 

Raising her eyes toward the heavens, it appeared God 
had heard her prayer and answered with rays of sunlight that crept through the holes in the ceiling engulfing the cross with brightness like an endearing embrace, making it glow and glisten with a new breath of life. 

Prayer now took on a new meaning as a hand gently tapped her shoulder.  A soft-spoken young man and an elderly man in a long dark robe greeted her.  He told her how nice it was to see someone praying in this old burned out church.  He introduced himself as Pastor Carson and his son Jeremiah. He further explained how his now rickety old church was once filled with life and song until it was so cruelly torched by folk who didn’t accept black ministers or congregations.  Seeing the pain in his eyes she decided not to burden him further with her tale of woes.  She lowered her head slightly, murmured her regrets and bid him farewell. 

She slowly walked down the lonely street, passing by a big beautiful house.  “Thanks for your kind words,” a meek voice said. 

Margaret smiled and just continued looking ahead for a place to stay for the night, but no one would give lodging to blacks.  Sadly she headed to the big house and inquired for room.  “You ladies got room here for me to sleep?”  Some of the women laughed, but the lady in red leaned over and whispered, “You come with me, I’ll find you a bed.” 

Ocella gently explained to her what and who she was.  Margaret had heard of this kind of house, but never seen these kinds of women before.  “It don’t matter to me, Ocella, you’re nice to me, so I’ll be nice to you.” 

This was the first night she’d slept well since she’d left her home.  Morning came and the two women ate their breakfast on the veranda in the cool morning breeze.  Getting up, Ocella tripped and tore her dress.  Margaret said, “I real good with the needle and thread.  You take it off and I’ll fix it up better than new.”

Ocella was grateful. Margaret became the seamstress for the home, under the direction of Ocella. Margaret admired Ocella’s business sense and way with words.  Ocella taught Margaret to read, write and even how to make change cause blacks weren’t allowed to be schooled. 

Ocella’s mommy went blind at an early age and Ocella feared the same for herself and learned Braille just  in  case  so  Margaret  learned  too.   Margaret learned how to put make-up on Ocella and do her hair just the way she liked it. Yes she was quite a piece of work all dolled up in her red satin lace and beaded dress with lips to match.  Ocella felt a strange but endearing closeness with Margaret that she couldn’t quite explain and shared her life story with Margaret, sordid as it was. 

Ocella said, “If my mammy and paw paw was living they’d surely die at what I’m doing with their money.”

Margaret laughed and asked, “Why you a prostitute, Ocella, you got money and lots of it?” 

Ocella said she was now a Madame and that were different from being a working girl.  “I started out just trying to get back at paw paw for running off my boyfriend, Justus. Then I just got used to men not having a right to tell me what to do.   I was real good at the job but I guess I plain liked how money talks otherwise I couldn’t have bought this here house cuz I’m a woman.  Ain’t fair, just ain’t fair.  I knew I could do a better job so here we are.” 

Margaret told her of how she lost her family and how her mama said Master George might be her daddy cause her eyes were blue as the sky. 

During her trip to the store to buy beads for Ocella’s dress Mawdrie who owned the store refused to even let her in the store telling her the black would rub off her on to the material and ruin it for sure. 

She quietly turned to walk away when a gruff voice said,  ‘Don’t you be worrying none ‘bout little Miss Mawdrie. She’s afraid of everybody.” Jeremiah the preacher’s son offered his hankie and arm as he walked her home. 

Ocella spurted words Margaret hadn’t heard before when Margaret told why she had no beads or material. Ocella grabbed her arm, dragging her to Mawdrie’s store. Mawdrie was just a young girl when her mammy and pappy died and left her the store and she had no kin so Ocella meant to set her straight and quick. 

Storming through the door Ocella pinned her against the wall pointing her finger in Mawdrie’s face belittling her a little more with each word, “Margaret works for me and we need that material.  Besides she’s my bestest friend in the world and it don’t matter to me what color she is.  Hell, I’d still be a liking her if she was blue.  Now you treat her with respect cause she’s just about the nicest person around these parts.  I don’t want no more trouble from you, Mawdrie, you here?” 

Mawdrie   mumbled her apologies to Ocella.  Ocella told her to apologize to Margaret and treat her right.  Not wishing further humiliation she did her best to make Margaret welcome from then on. Margaret trailed behind until Ocella bid her to catch up. 

Becker Lloyd Barlow, the Judge in town grinned when he said, “Ocella’s at it again, watch out folks get out of her way.” Judge Barlow tried his hardest to convince Ocella they out to get hitched but Ocella turned him down flat each and every time. Margaret just couldn’t figure out why Ocella always turned him away so Ocella explained that she loved her freedom and couldn’t take the chance of losing him as her friend. Margaret told her she’d only be cheating herself out of having the best things love could offer and Becker Lloyd Barlow cherished the ground she walked on. Ocella demanded respect in this town and settled for nothing less. 

Next day Jeremiah came a courting Margaret.  Ocella nudged her, “Jeremiah is so nice and he’s respectful being a preachers boy and he’s cute too, you two don’t go running off now you hear?” 

The women laughed for hours.  Margaret told of her dreams of marrying and having babies and Ocella teared up as she told Margaret of losing her only baby at birth. Margaret said she couldn’t believe Ocella even had wanted a child.  “Just cause I was a working girl ain’t no reason to think I ain’t got a heart you know?  Me and Justus was gonna get hitched right after the baby was born but Paw Paw blamed him for everything and run him off.”  Margaret felt ashamed and tried her best to make things right for her harsh judgments.  By now Ocella and Margaret were friends and nothing could change that: not words said in haste or anger, not men, not babies, not sickness, not money, not even death. 
 
 
Jeremiah and Margaret became close and married.  Ocella bought a small farmhouse on the outskirts of town for Margaret and Jeremiah to live in cause it just wasn’t right for a married woman to be living in a brothel.

Ocella figured they deserved a fighting chance and fought tooth and nail against anybody, who dared to oppose her plans, besides she had the money to back it up. Becker Lloyd Barlow and Ocella worked together tirelessly when they weren’t drinking whiskey and swapping Stories to rebuild the old church and make it legal for anyone to own property.  Margaret did not sew dresses for Ocella for a short time, as she was a busy sewing baby clothes.  Abby was born on Ocella's birthday and Ocella became Abby’s Godmother. 

Margaret had to “learn” Abby at home cause blacks weren’t allowed. Abby learned fast and grew to be quite a beauty. Nippy played nanny to Abby and slept with her every night. People in town couldn’t figure out the unique relationship between these women.  Ocella didn’t care what folk thought or said; only thing mattered was they were friends. Two outsiders had found the true meaning of friendship. 

The years of hard living and playing caught up to Ocella and she contracted tuberculosis. Soon she found herself bedridden and unable to even bathe and doll herself up without coughing up blood and passing out.  Margaret, Jeremiah and Abby diligently took care of her. Jeremiah put wheels on a rocking chair so Margaret could push her around from time to time. 

Just as she feared, Ocella’s eyes began to cloud up so Margaret took to fixing her up fancy everyday just to make her feel good. Margaret even going so far as squeezing pomegranate seeds for juice to color her lips. Ocella liked that part a lot. 

Ocella lingered for months ever the boss until she quietly passed on in her sleep with Becker Lloyd Barlow by her side professing his undying love.  They soon laid Becker Lloyd Barlow by Ocella’s side as he drunk himself to death.  Folks figured he died of a broken heart.  Margaret hadn’t felt such pain since her family was killed back in Georgia.  They all had become more than friends; they were family and
their deaths cut deep as any two edged sword. A few years later Margaret fell ill.  Abby sang songs her mama had taught her to soothe her pain.  One song that made Margaret laugh was a silly little ditty like this, ”I will sing a little song and it’s not very long . . .tootle up tootle up now it’s all gone.” Abby tied camphor bags round Margaret and Jeremiah’s necks to ward off the influenza but it was too late for Margaret.  She got so bad Jeremiah sent for the doctor on Thanksgiving morning. 

Doc Malone’s face lit up when he looked into Margaret’s blue eyes. Visions of how Margaret scarred that bully away from hitting him stirred him so that he just had to laugh out loud.  After examining Margaret he knew he couldn’t do much but try and make her comfortable so he took her hand in his just as she had taken his hand all those years ago and began to pray. 

Looking in his eyes she saw a glimmer of the little boy she once knew.  Margaret perked up a little as she whispered; “I’m getting kind of hungry how about you Willie?” 

“I sure enough is Miss Margaret” with a childlike giggle. “I seen lots of black folk in this old world, Miss Margaret. But funny thing is, I ain’t seen a Niger since I was just about 10.” With tears welling up in his eyes he bent over and kissed her forehead and told her she just could never know how much she had changed his life and he’d always hold her memory close in his heart.  The end was near so Margaret asked Abby to get the quilt. “Mama that quilt’s so old let’s throw it out and use the one daddy bought you.  You never use it.” 

“It’s my quilt and I want it,” insisted Margaret. Handing the quilt to Abby, Margaret quietly spoke,  “This quilt is yours now Abby, you give it to your first born.  Nothing else much matters. This is our life, our history.” Abby kissed her mama’s forehead as she closed her eyes for the last time. 

Margaret now lay peacefully in the old church cemetery under the magnificent old oak tree next to Ocella and Becker Lloyd Barlow right where she belonged.  Mawdrie almost couldn’t take the pain any longer when she saw Nippy lying on Margaret’s grave howling so she broke the sadness by telling everyone in town Ocella needed help fixing up her face and now Margaret was taking care of her.   The quilt fell apart when Abby washed it discovering lots of money and family pictures beneath the squares that her mama had sewn in to the lining.  Now she too understood the importance of the quilt.  On further examination, Abby saw Ocella’s name on the quilt.  Patching this old brittle quilt was a chore indeed, but it was important to Mama.  As Abby went to tack that square she found a property deed of 50 acres in her name.  Not even the grave could hinder a mama’s love from making sure her baby was well taken care of.  After much thought, Jeremiah and Abby decided to build a schoolhouse for children who were outsiders.  One autumn day Abby saw a little boy reading the names on the quilt.  Seeing her there he asked, “Why is my Daddy’s name was on that quilt?” 

Bewildered she asked, "What do you mean?"

He told her his Daddy's name was Dabney. She started to explain the quilt as a voice beckoned him to hurry up so he could get his chores done.  The man stood motionless as Abby turned to face him with those sky blue eyes he remembered so well.  Somehow she felt an odd connection to this man.  "My Mama was Margaret and this is our family quilt."  Stopping her in mid sentence he told her Margaret was his sister and he was Nathan. Abby started to cry with tears of joy as she reached up to hug his neck.  Time and ignorance had separated a faimily, but fate and destiny stepped in to lead the way in reuniting family ties that grew stronger with each passing day.  

To this day the family quilt hangs in school auditorium in honor of the love, devotion and friendship between true friends.