I could never forget that he was a slave. Sometimes I wished that he might die in infancy. God tried me. My darling became very ill. The bright eyes grew dull, and the little feet and hands were so icy cold that I thought death had already touched them.
Death is better than slavery.
It was a sad thought that I had no name to give my child. His father caressed him and treated him kindly, whenever he had a chance to see him.