Chez LeBois 31 December 1830   It is a perfect time to review my life since removing to Alabama, as I believe I stand at a crossroad between to looking forward and putting the past behind me. But I shall first describe the Sunday’s poignant events, because John announced to our church gathering that he and I shall reside in Greensborough for the next few months. Heads turned, eyes opened wide, jaws dropped. “Do not worry, friends. We are not selling this place. I will be back to check on the property every week, and my parents and Mrs. LeBois’ mother will remain. My wife needs to be near a doctor the next couple of months. And I am opening my blacksmith and cotton gin businesses there.” Charity Rimes clutched her Bible to her chest. Her mouth drooped and tears glistened. I did not have a chance to inform her of our plans prior to this announcement, and it apparently was a shock. My husband awaited the murmuring to cease, then continued. “We shall still have services here eac...

Chez LeBois 7 December 1830   During the past three months, after what I call my “reawakening,” I have worked to regain my footing. My mother-in-law suggested I have a plan. She told me organization helps her to accomplish what might be overwhelming tasks. My sister-in-law offered to assist. Mary suggested we begin a version of a female “class meeting.” We could pattern it under Methodist protocol in some respects. But we will gather more often and have rules that are not as strict. So, in November, we began a daily routine, Monday through Saturday, of convening in the LeBois house (not ours, but theirs) at ten o’clock in the forenoon. We have a brief prayer given by whomever the spirit leads and then a short scripture reading. Thereafter, the discussion is open to whatever “business” is on our minds. Though skeptical at first, Mother joined us. This frees Patsy to do whatever she wishes for a few hours each day. I find it delightful to reacquaint myself with the three ladies. I wr...

    55 Grace Chez LeBois 3 September 1830   The foundling lived only a few days. The poor thing had little chance, and his parents may not learn of the death. Daniel has not communicated with anyone, including his young son Tom, in quite a while. We are uncertain he ever will again. The men buried the infant this morning behind the slave quarters, stones marking the grave. John built a small casket out of pine. He told me pine rots more rapidly than other woods, allowing the body to return to the earth whence it came that much sooner. “What wood did you use for our Billy? I never did know.” “Oak. And then a second box surrounding it, made of cedar. I wanted him to stay with us as long as we lived, and I somehow felt…” His voice trailed off. Some feelings are emerging, long buried. I dream of our baby, his illness, his death, his grave. Until this summer, I did not recall having dreams. Not for three years. I have not written yet about it, how I started to awaken from my d...

54 Anvil and Blanket Chez LeBois 31 August 1830   It shocked us, but I suppose it should not have. In the early hours, someone left a baby on the doorstep at Mother’s house. Disaster could have befallen him were it not for Nero bringing in firewood. I learned of the foundling from Judith when I awoke. Nero spread the news to the slave quarters, and it was not long before everyone found out. After breakfast in our respective homes, we gathered at mother’s. “Who brought the child here?” asked Mary LeBois. “Did anyone see?” Mother replied, “Nero heard rustling in the canes, but it was not light enough to notice anything. His attention was on the babe. Thank goodness he brought the lad in! He arrived with a blanket and sounded hungry and weak.” She rocked the infant next to the fire as some of us sat, while others milled around in wonder. This is a mystery. My matronly instincts are not always the strongest. Sam spends the morning at the LeBois household, and I nurse the younger Rufus ...