The Patchwork Path A Quilt Map to Freedom

the patchwork path the quilt map to freedom by Betty Stroud illustrated by Aaron Suzanne Bennett my name is Hannah I was a slave on a Georgia plantation the year I turned 10 mama taught me to make a special quilt I learned how to stitch together pieces of old cloth to make different patterns but mama wanted me to learn more than just how to sew while we stitched she told me a secret each pattern holds a special meaning mama whispered Hannah this quilt will show you everything you need to know to run to freedom she and

Poppa thought about freedom all the time I dared to think about it too after mama taught me about the quilt patterns soon after master sold my sister married to a far-off plantation mama passed away Papa said it was her heart that broke sometimes when I missed Mama and Mary so hard in my own heart was close to splitting I remember Mama's words the monkey wrench turns the wagon wheel toward Canada on a bear's paw trail to the crossroads once they get to the crossroads they dig a log cabin on the ground true flight tells him

to dress up in cotton and satin bow ties and to go to the cathedral church and exchange double rings flying geese stay on the drunkards path and follow the Stars that was a quilt code one day in spring Papa told me to air out Mama's monkey wrench quilt this pattern warns the others that you and I are leaving that we are gathering our tools to go it will be a long and difficult journey well remember Mama's up in heaven watching over us tomorrow night storms will come and we'll run so get your quilt try the

corners together and slip a little bread inside I shook with excitement but wish Mary were with us I wondered what it was like where she lived now and if at night she looked up at the sky toward mama papa was a wagon driver he drove the Mules to other plantations he always kept his eyes open going and coming for miles and miles around he memorized roads streams and dark woods papa knew where runaway slaves could hide the night before we left Papa tried to calm me I touched a finger to the wagon wheels square on

my quilt I knew it meant we were to pack things for the journey as though we were loading a wagon I also knew there would be no wagon and that we would have to run we stepped out into the worst rainstorm I'd ever seen Papa do we have to leave now I asked yes the dogs won't be able to follow our scent no work in the fields tomorrow some master won't miss us in the drenching rain he led me through the dark woods did I hear the hooves of galloping horses we hid behind fallen logs

I shivered from the wet cold I thought I heard a dog bark and a stick snap my stomach tightened would they catch us and take us back what would happen to us then early the next morning we came to a church at the edge of town with a storm like this the members here will be expecting runaway slaves Papa said we crept inside we hid in a secret place beneath the floor daylight slanted through the holes cut into the wooden planks that cross shape is from Africa Papa told me it means life death and rebirth

I prayed then that we would be reborn as free people in Canada the Sauk voices of our protectors drifted down to us as we waited for nightfall Papa's Lantern cast strange shadows on the walls of the tunnel that led from the church to the river Papa told me that pirates had made the tunnels we followed the riverbed upstream the cold water soaked through my shoes my toe stuck like icy hard pebbles sometimes Papa climb the bluff to look for horsemen with dogs and wimps my knees and legs ached how far was Canada anyway just as

the Sun rose I saw a flock of geese high above they're flying north said Papa we'll just follow them we walked night after night and hid during the day when I thought I couldn't lift my legs I thought about mama and her quilt coat she kept me going I had never left the plantation or seen anything but fields in Marsh I could not believe my eyes when we climbed high into the mountains and I saw the view surely we could see Canada from there but Papa shook his head no Anna we're still far off we

need to find a way down this mountain a little farther on I found the way look papa there it is there that they are tracks like the on my quilt we followed the Bears pod trail to the valley below I hoped we wouldn't catch up to the Bears the tracks led us to water and an empty safe cave to sleep in Mama's quilt patterns worked just fine sometimes we had something to eat and sometimes we went hungry we considered ourselves lucky when there were berries depict bestow me when I tried to get honey from a

hive if Papa caught a fish from a stream we enjoyed a feast spring turned to summer and now even the nights were warm we kept walking in his exact pattern like the drunkards path on my quilt I remember mama had told me once that bad luck follows a straight line I knew that the zigzag pattern would make it harder for masters men to follow our trail - Papa pointed to the shoe fly pattern on my quilt he told me that if anyone came after us we should scatter like flies later we could meet back up

at the spot where we separated that way they can catch only one of us or maybe none he said if I get caught you just keep going Hannah one lucky day we found a safe house Papa knew to look for a lantern glowing in the window the people who lived there will help us he said how wonderful it was to get clean clothes and sleep on a real bed for the first time in months hot bread and baked pork never tasted so fine we washed ourselves and slept all day and night next morning the good

man and his wife told us they were Quakers they believed that slavery was wrong and said that they would help us as much as they could next they told us what lay ahead on our way to a place called Cleveland to the crossroads and listened close two days later the man carried us northward for miles as we lay hidden in the bottom of his wagon covered by blankets and straw when night fell we struck out walking again I thought rested and ready to get to freedom but freedom was still a far away off the Knights

grew longer and colder by the time we reach the great stretch of water at the crossroads it looked like an ocean but our Quaker friends had told us it was Lake Erie freedom's on the other side Papa said but how will we ever get across I asked what if we'd come all this way just to get stumped so close don't worry somebody will look for this sign Papa said he drew a log-cabin pattern in the sand near the shore we hid in a nearby forest and waited a free black man saw a sign and looked

around for us we rushed out of hiding and the man took us to a big cave that looked like a Cathedral he gave us clean clothes I got a crisp new bonnet to wear has Papa tied the strings into a big bow I thought but bowtie square on my quilt we dressed up like we were going to church with our new clothes we look like we were free the man told us you've always been free on the inside now your old life is over soon you'll be free on the outside too that night Papa rang

a small Bell that the man had given him we waited for a signal a sign we heard a faint chime as somebody rang Brack double rings a riverboat captain took us on his boat and set out across the water the North Star shone brightly in the night sky we had followed the stars to freedom has dawned spread pink across the water I saw Canada it was autumn now and the trees with the red and gold leaves they look like they were on fire what a beautiful place we truly felt reborn I hugged papa tight I

spent our first winter making a new quilt using pieces of cloth from our old slave clothes and some new fabric to the big one this time with all the patterns of the quilt code just like mama had taught me I left one square empty because I missed my sister and I hope to see her again when Mary is with us again I'll finish the quilt until then I'll pray for her and dream about all of us being free the patchwork path is based on a story given to Jacqueline Tobin by african-american quilter izella McDaniel Williams

at the historic charleston south carolina marketplace in 1994 the story about how slaves used quilts to communicate on the Underground Railroad had been passed down orally from grandmother to mother to daughter the story was held secret knows Ella's family until she insisted that jog willen write this down