The Gift

  My job was tending the chickens, so I didn't mind when Master Morris came along

this mornin' and told me to get four chickens to Master Reed's Plantation and be

quick about it. Jess, my younger brother, came along and carried one of the old

wooden wire cages.

  I noticed small drops of sweat trickle down the back of Jess' neck as we walked

along Sutton Creek. My faded, blue dress stuck to my back, as beads of sweat ran

down my arms. The leaves were silent. The birds were still. The water

tumbling over the large, smooth rocks in the creek were the only sounds I heard.

The water bubbled and wound in and around the trees and sweet smelling grass.

As I watched the water skip ahead of me, I longed to jump in. If only I could be a

small drop of water splashing and washing over the large smooth rocks. I wouldn't

live on Morris Plantation no more. I'd be free to move about as I pleased.

  "Sara!" Jess called me away from my thoughts. I looked at him and noticed the

old beat up cage he had been carrying was now sitting on the rough ground.

  "If I was fixin' to eat these chickens, I'd dig a ditch and lay wood in it. Then I'd burn

the wood til it was full of bright orange coals. Then I'd roast this whole chicken just

like we done last Christmas." He breathed in deeply as if he could smell the

roasted chicken.

  "Can we stop?" he asked. "My arm hurts somethin' fierce!"

  I set my cage down in the soft grass and smiled. Jess rubbed his arm and

shoulder as mosquitoes buzzed around his face.


  "We can stop, " I replied. "We can't stay long, they knows we is a comin'."

  As I sat down on the pea green colored grass, I heard a strange nosie. I looked at

Jess. He was playing with a dirt clod. Then he suddenly stopped and stared at me.

We waited in the stillness. Nothing. Then we heard it. A soft whimper. I quickly got

to my feet and searched the uneven ground for a stick. Jess stood behind me

grabbing a corner of my dress. We crept toward the edge of the creek.

  He was lying on the ground, clutching his leg. The man was a Confederate solider.

His uniform, torn as it was, told me that. As we moved closer, the solider stretched

out his arm and looked into my eyes.

  'Help me! My leg is hurt bad!" His voice cracked. His eyes were wet with tears.

His gray uniform smelled like wet wool and was covered with dirt. He was my

enemy. Jess pulled me back. "No! he exclaimed. "We gots to go!"

  "What we do about him?" I asked.

  "Let him be Sara!" Jess whispered. "He be a solider."

  "A Confederate solider, " I replied softly. I stared at him and noticed blood trickling

from his leg. "He be hurt Jess! We gots to help. Wouldn' be right to let him die even

if he's fighting to keep us slaves." I knelt down beside the solider.

  "I'll help him and you take the chickens, " I said.

  Jess picked up the cages and ran off. I picked up the solider's hat and took it to

the creek. I had watched Mama clean wounds. I had seen wounds from a whip, but

I'd never seen a wound like this before. I returned with water and began to tear

pieces of cloth from his shirt to use as bandages. I rinsed the pieces of cloth in the

creek to get rid of the dirt, but some were stained. I worked in silence.

  Jess returned as I tied the last badage on the solider's leg. "Did he say

somethin'?" Jess asked.

  "No."

  Then in a hushed voice the soldier said, "My name's William."

"My sister be Sara and I be Jess,' Jess looked at me. "We gots to get fore Master

Morris comes lookin' for us.!"  We carefully pulled William closer to the creek. Tall

grass and thick bushes hid him from view of the road. I filled his hat with more

water. "I'll bring food, " I whispered.

  Questions filled my head as we ran back to the plantation. Could I get food to

William and not get caught? Would his leg heal without Mama's medicine? Why did

I care if he died? Would Jess tell our secret?

  In the days that followed, Jess and I took turns taking bits of food to William. I

showed Jess how to change the badages and clean the wound. We never went at

the same time each day, so Mama and Papa wouldn't ask any questions. Each

time I went, William asked me questions about my family. He asked me about my

life on the plantation. He asked how I felt about being a slave.

  William was sixteen. He had a ten year old sister like me. His brother was eight

years old. He told me about his home and about fighting in the war. Nine days had

passed since we found William when four soliders arrived at the plantation. They

were looking for a missing Confederate solider. The fat one told Master Morris that

the solider would be hung for desertion when they caught him. Jess and I ran off to

tell William. Several birds in a nearby white oak tree called to each other, as if they

were sending out a warning. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves.

  "Four soliders be lookin' for you!" Jess blurted out as he slid to the ground.

  "They be fixin' to hang you!" I added.

  "Don't fret none. It's time for me to go. My leg is better. I'll go back to the war."

William said. The birds were silent. The leaves stirred. "I can't fight as a

Confederate no more. Treating people different cuz he has black skin just ain't right.

I know that now. I'm gonna head north."

  "What if they catch you? I don't want you to hang William!" Tears filled my eyes

as I spoke. "You ain't my enemy no more. You is my friend. I know that now. Not

all white folks hate me cuz I be black."

  "Don't worry yourselves none. I'll make it north just fine," he replied. He pulled a

small cloth bundle out of his pocket. "I made this for you two," as he carefullly

placed it in my hand.

  Slowly I pulled the corners of the cloth away and saw a small bird. The feathers

had been carved with patience and skill. Its eyes looked kind, like William's eyes.

  "It's a dove, Sara."

  I looked into his pale green eyes and saw a tear fall down his cheek. "You and

Jess gave me the gift of friendship. This is my gift to you." I smiled and clutched it

tightly in my hand, holding it close to my heart.