Walking down to the river, the old song resonated within her:

Oh we ain’t gonna have to cross no more

Down by the riverside

Down by the riverside

Down by the riverside

We ain’t gonna have to cross no more

Way down by that riverside

So many had tried, too many. Even though those that couldn’t swim, they tried. They had to, slavers weren’t far behind. She was with all her family then, Big Uncle Jim, he led the way. Uncle Jim, so kind, always smiling. They were lucky. In the fall, the river was low with everyone holding hands they could wade ‘cross together.

Reaching the river’s edge, she stopped and pulled the family quilt tight ‘round her shoulders. Staring at the river, the stones in the river bed…