A Light to My Path (Refiner's Fire) (Volume 3)
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As a slave, Kitty has followed orders all her life. Now that she's free to choose, how will she know the right path? Beautifully repackaged!
Goodman and Missy Claire, all alone in the world. For a horrible moment it seemed as though the past few years with Delia and Grady had been only a dream. Kitty quickly dug in her satchel for the picture she’d drawn of Grady, gazing at it through her tears to assure herself that he had been real, that he had loved her. Kitty had been a slave since the day she was born, but for the first time in her life she felt like one—a captive, forced to labor for other people against her will. She closed
plantation and led them all through the woods to the landing site. Another squadron of soldiers arrived a few hours later with twenty-three more rescued slaves. Then to Grady’s astonishment, he suddenly recognized one of the Negro soldiers in the second squadron. The big man was several years older than when Grady had seen him last, but the tension and anger on his dark face looked exactly as they had years ago. “Amos!” Grady called out to him. The big man looked up, puzzled, then slowly walked
a ripping sound as the side seam of her dress gave way. “Oh!” she cried and quickly lowered her arms. “What was that tearing sound?” Missy asked. “What did you do?” “Nothing, Missy Claire. Just my own dress ripping a little bit.” “Come here and let me see. Lift up your arms.” Kitty did as she was told. “What a mess!” Missy said when she showed her. “And you expect me to trust you with my gowns? Look at this! And why is the waistline way up above your waist? Who sewed this?” “I did, Missy
the woods?” “Never mind what I’m gonna do, honey. You got to be deciding for yourself what to do. Can’t nobody tell you which way to go except the Lord.” “Decide? How?” Kitty had never made up her own mind before. She always did whatever Missy said and wasn’t allowed to have any ideas or wishes of her own. Making up your mind was something you had to learn to do, like reading and writing—and she’d never learned those things either, only how to obey. “I don’t know how to decide,” she told Delia.
sleep, longing for them to come to her again in her dreams, hoping that the dream would end differently this time. Chapter Two Richmond, Virginia 1853 “Get up, boy.” Grady opened his eyes. Gilbert stood over him, shaking the sleep from him. Was it morning? It seemed too dark, too quiet in the loft above the kitchen for it to be morning. He heard the faint drumbeat of rain on the roof. “Get up,” Gilbert repeated. “Massa Fletcher wants you.” The urgency in Gilbert’s voice made Grady’s