“Ah God,′ said she, “what a different woman I would-a been if ennybody had ever cared for me.” I wanted to throw myself at her feet and clutch at her skirts, “But, Mother, I’m here: don’t forget; I’m here,” I wanted to cry out. Once when she talked like that I made a vow: “I will do something about it, I will tell, Mother; I will tell, I swear I will tell your story.”

“Ah God,′ said she, “what a different woman I would-a been if ennybody had ever cared for me.” I wanted to throw myself at her feet and clutch at her skirts, “But, Mother, I’m here: don’t forget; I’m here,” I wanted to cry out. Once when she talked like that I made a vow: “I will do something about it, I will tell, Mother; I will tell, I swear I will tell your story.”

— Gertrude Beasley