Wise Black Prairie Woman, part 2

For Wise Black Prairie Woman, either the god of the white folks or some deity of deep dark Africa must have been holding her work-worn hand every step she took north. When she had dragged herself and her children about a far as they had strength to go she found help. It wasn't the northern army she found but something even better.

One evening after she's stopped and gathered her hungry children to her for the night, what surely seemed like an aspiration, though grimy and worn its self, stepped into her meager camp. Black Prairie Woman stared up frightfully at the man who had invaded her camp, then her expression changed to a big beautiful grin as she shooed her little ones off her and leaped to her feet. Her next move was right into the strong arms of her man who had obtained leave from his unit. He was marching home on a mission of his own, to gather his 'free' family to him. He wasn't much surprised to find them there, many dusty miles from home. Black Prairie Woman was just that sort of stout-hearted woman. And that trait was most likely what made their next venture a success.

While Black Prairie Woman's husband had been gone the Homestead Act had been signed into law and he'd heard about it. Since then he'd been dreaming about that 160 acres that was waiting for him and his family out there to the west on the Great Plains. Of course, he felt honor-bound to return to his unit, and did so just as soon as he had his wife and children north and settled on a little patch of ground that sported a usable shack.

Then the war ended and Black Prairie Woman's husband came for them. With what money he'd put away over the years he bought a covered wagon and provisions as well as some farming tools.

Once they arrived on the prairie Black Prairie Woman was less inclined to look with disdain at the sod house they built. To her it was the most beautiful home she'd ever seen because she and her children were no longer slaves. They were free to live, work and love. Unlike her white neighbor women, there wasn't much she'd needed to be tearful over back in so-called civilization. There was one thing, though, and it was a mighty sorrowful thing.

She and her husband had tried to find their two oldest children that had been sold away from them when they were mere toddlers. The eldest, a boy, would be nearly a man now. They never found him. The other, a little girl, who would have been flowering in to early womanhood, they had located. Rather, they had come upon the tiny grave where the child had now slept for some time, beneath the southern sod.

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