To my two sons

Dearest children,

I hope this letter finds you well and still together. I pray to God that we will be together soon. I think of you every waking hour, hoping and praying for miracles. Sometimes I stir in the night to cries and voices, and I think it is you. Every time there is a knock at the door, I rush to answer. Slumber is impossible.

Leaving you was the most heart-wrenching experience of all my years of life. Until you are fathers and first feel the warmth and weight of a new baby will you know of your mother’s love. Choosing which of my children to take was not an easy task. I love my children equally. I know my actions do not convey that, but you must trust that I speak the truth when I tell you that I love my children all of my children. I chose your sisters because I know the miseries of life as an enslaved woman. Yes, I know men have also felt the sting of the whip, but I know what it is like to be an enslaved woman--never knowing when the master will strike again and claw you, until his sourness has penetrated every inch of you, until you are but a withered magnolia leaf--once beautiful and whole, but now soulless. Even in the dark of night, slumber is impossible for fear of the creak of the cabin door. I couldn’t bear that for my daughters.

Perhaps I am still trying to convince myself that I made the right choice, and for this reason, you should know how much I love you. I know that it is easier for you as boys to escape. You are stronger and can survive on your own. I’ve raised strong, competent daughters, but two black women walking alone would raise far more suspicion than two black men.

I want to tell you how sorry I am. I am sorry that it came to choice. I am sorry that I may never see you again in this lifetime, to know what fine men you will become. I am sorry that I may never see you have the chance, the first taste of freedom, and to know the pull of a smile. I am sorry that fate had to be so cruel. Most of all, I am sorry that you will never know how much I love and cherish you.

Take comfort, my children. If not to see you in this lifetime, I know God will arrange for it in another.

All of my love,

Mama (Vina)