BooksBarbecue
Back The Land Beneath Us Save as PDF
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Endorsements
  3. Books by Sarah Sundin
  4. Title Page
  5. Copyright Page
  6. Presidential Radio Broadcast
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. Epilogue
  58. Acknowledgments
  59. Discussion Questions
  60. About the Author
  61. Back Ads
  62. Back Cover

“Oh my! Aren’t y’all sweet? I have a heap of paper and metal scrap out back, and I haven’t had time to haul it in.”

“We’d be happy to do that for you, ma’am.”

“Meet me out back.” She shut the door.

Mikey and Hattie ran around the house, the wagon clattering behind them. In a few minutes, they returned, the wagon half full.

“Good job,” Leah said. “At this rate, we’ll be the first back.”

Mikey’s grin stretched the width of his narrow face. “Told Marty I’d beat him. Come on, Hattie.”

Hattie didn’t move. She lifted a foot capped with a white bobby sock and a sturdy brown shoe. “Teacher and Principal were fighting over me.”

Fighting? “How’s that?”

“Teacher says I’m not white, and she shouldn’t have to have me in her class.”

Leah’s gut contracted and burned.

“Principal says I’m not black enough for the colored school, so they have to keep me.” Hattie twisted her dusky arm in the warm air. “I’m not white. I’m not black. I’m nothing.”

“Oh! Darling girl!” Leah stopped the baby carriage and scooped Hattie up onto her hip. “You are not nothing. You are something.”

The girl lowered her chin.

Leah fingered one of her braids. “This isn’t nothing. I can feel it. It’s something.” She tapped her nose. “This isn’t nothing. It’s something.”

One slight shoulder shrugged.

Leah poked her lightly in the side, prompting a giggle. “See? Nothing can’t laugh. Only something can laugh. You are something. In fact, you’re something special.”

Mikey faced them, his hands coiled into fists. “Who’s your teacher, Hattie? I’ve a mind to pop her in the nose.”

“Hush,” Leah said. “No one’s going to pop anyone in the nose, you hear?”

Mikey groaned. “I hear. But I oughta. Miss King says we’re all created in God’s image—you, me, Hattie, the Negro boys and girls at the Davidson Academy. All of us.”

Leah smiled and hugged Hattie. “That’s right. Listen to Miss King. She’s a wise woman. Every person is special to God. You are special to him. Don’t you ever forget that.”

Don’t you either. The voice flitted into Leah’s ear, so faint, she thought Hattie had spoken, but the child was squirming out of Leah’s arms.

Made in God’s image. Special. Beloved. Belonging.

Leah glanced into the carriage to her darling sleeping daughter, then back toward the children’s home, where she was welcome, and where she’d come with her mother-in-law and her dear friend, who had enveloped her with friendship and love.

Yes, she did belong.

ch-fig1

34

MARSHALING AREA D-5, OUTSIDE DORCHESTER, DORSET, ENGLAND
THURSDAY, MAY 25, 1944