By Vaunda Micheaux Nelson

Tells the tale of a tender girl's dramatic break out from slavery through the Underground Railroad, from the point of view of her loved rag doll.

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Additional resources for Almost to Freedom (Coretta Scott King Illustrator Honor Book)

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I’s sorry when they finally go ‘cause I get to feelin’ lonely again. I get to thinkin’ that I best stop hopin’. Then one day, praise the Lord, the boards bein’ moved! Somebody’s comin’ down the ladder! If I’d a flesh-andblood heart, it woulda been poundin’ like Lindy’s that night we run off. I see light from a lantern and a woman wrappin’ up a little girl in a blanket. The child’s shiverin’, more scared, I think, than cold. Her eyes look tired and tearful. ” She blows the dust off my face and holds me closer to the lantern.

And I give a lot of time to grievin’. Grievin’ for myself. I wish the silverhaired woman would come. But she don’t. Nobody comes. After a spell, I’m thinkin’ maybe slave catchers is watchin’ this house. Maybe the hidin’ place ain’t safe. Maybe I’ll lay right here for the rest of my days. By and by, a mouse scurries over my face and into a corner. I’s glad to have the company. I pass the time listenin’ to Miz Mouse make herself a nest and raise her young’uns. I’s sorry when they finally go ‘cause I get to feelin’ lonely again.

The silver-haired woman is closin’ up the floor. Lindy! Wait! But she can’t hear me, ‘cause I ain’t got no voice. The boards shut out the light. When the floorboards open again, sunlight shines in. The silver-haired woman comes down the ladder. “There you are,” she says, pickin’ me up. ” She straightens my dress. ” She sets me on a blanket and tucks it ‘round me. “Sleep tight,” she says, and carries the lantern and privy bucket up the ladder. Then she closes the floor. If I coulda made tears, them blankets woulda been wet clean through.

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