Step by Step; Or, Tidy's Way to Freedom by American Tract Society
Step by Step; Or, Tidy's Way to Freedom by American Tract Society
MY DEAR CHILDREN,-All of you who read this little book have doubtless heard more or less of slavery. You know it is the system by which a portion of our people hold their fellow-creatures as property, and doom them to perpetual servitude. It is a hateful and accursed institution, which God can not look upon but with abhorrence, and which no one of his children should for a moment tolerate. It is opposed to every thing Christian and humane, and full of all meanness and cruelty.
It treats a fellow-being, only because his skin is not so fair as our own, as though he were a dumb animal or a piece of furniture. It allows him no expression of choice about any thing, and no liberty of action. It recognizes and employs all the instincts of the lower, but ignores and tramples down all the faculties of his higher, nature. Can there be a greater wrong?
It is said by some, in extenuation of this wrong, that the slaves are well fed and clothed, and are kindly, even affectionately, looked after. This is true, in some cases,-with the house-servants, particularly,-but, as a general thing, their food and clothing are coarse and insufficient. But supposing it was otherwise; supposing they were provided for with as much liberality as are the working classes at the North, what is that when put into the balance with all the ills they suffer? What comfort is it, when a wife is torn from her husband, or a mother from her children, to know that each is to have enough to eat? None at all. The most generous provision for the body can not satisfy the longings of the heart, or compensate for its bereavements.
They suffer, also, a constant dread and fear of change, which is not the least of their torturing troubles. A kind owner may be taken away by death, and the new one be harsh and cruel; or necessity may compel him to sell his slaves, and thus they may be thrown into most unhappy situations. So they live with a heavy cloud of sorrow always before them, which their eyes can not look through or beyond. There is no hope-no EARTHLY hope-for this poor, oppressed race.
Their minds, too, are starved. No education, not even the least, is allowed. It is a criminal offense in some of the States to teach a slave to read. Now, if they could be made to exist without any consciousness of intellectual capacity, it would not be so bad. But this is impossible. They think and reason and wonder about things which they see and hear; and, in many cases, feel an eager desire to be instructed. This desire can not be gratified, because it would unfit them for their servile condition; therefore all teaching is rigidly denied them. The treasures of knowledge are bolted and barred to their approach, and they are kept in the utmost darkness and ignorance. Oh, to starve the mind!-Is it not far worse than to starve the body?
There is yet another process of famishing to which the slaves are subjected. They are not, as a general thing, taught by their masters about God, the salvation of Jesus Christ or the way to heaven. The SOUL is starved. To be sure, they pick up, here and there, a few crumbs of religious truth, and make the most of their scanty supply. Many of them truly love the Lord; and his unseen presence and joyful anticipations of heaven make them submissive to their hardships, and cheerful and faithful in their duties. But they can not thank their masters for what religious light and knowledge they get.
And who are these that hold their fellow-creatures in such cruel bondage, starving body, mind, and soul with such indifference and inhumanity? We blush to tell you. Many of them are of the number of those who profess to love the Lord their God with all the heart, and their neighbor as themselves. Can it be possible that God's own children can participate in such a wickedness; can buy and sell, beat and kill, their fellow-creatures? Can those who have humbly repented of sin, and by faith accepted of the salvation of Jesus Christ, turn from his holy cross to abuse others who are redeemed by the same precious blood, and are heirs to the same glorious immortality? CAN such be Christians?
And, children, you probably all understand that slavery is the sole cause of the sad war which is now ravaging our beloved country; and Christian people are praying, not only that the war may cease, but that the sin which has caused it may cease also. We believe that God is overruling all things to bring about this happy result, and before this little story shall meet your eyes, there may be no more slaves within our borders. Still we shall not have written it in vain, if it help you to realize, more clearly than you have done, the sufferings and degradation to which this unfortunate class have been subjected, and to labor with zeal in the work which will then devolve upon us of educating and elevating them.
My story is not one of UNUSUAL interest. Thousands and ten of thousands equally affecting might be told, and many far more romantic and thrilling. What a day will that be, when the recorded history of every slave-life shall be read before an assembled universe! What a long catalogue of martyrs and heroes will then be revealed! What complicated tales of wrongs and woes! What crowns and palms of victory will then be awarded! What treasures of wrath heaped up against the day of wrath will then be poured in fiery indignation upon deserving heads! Truly, then, will come to pass the saying of the Lord Jesus, "The first shall be last and the last first."
Then, too, will appear most gloriously the loving kindness and tender mercy of God, who loves to stoop to the poor and humble, and to care for those who are friendless and alone. It seems as if our Heavenly Father took special delight in revealing the truths of salvation to this untutored people, in a mysterious way leading them into gospel light and liberty; so that though men take pains to keep them in ignorance, multitudes of them give evidence of piety, and find consolation for their miseries in the sweet love of God.
It is the dealings of God in guiding one of these to a knowledge of himself, that I wish to relate to you in the following chapters.
Three months into their marriage, Stella Dawson had been diligently playing the role of a delicate, spoiled flower-pushing every button she could-until she finally drove the CEO to the brink of madness. Alexander Sterling coldly tossed the divorce papers at her. "Let's get divorced." Tears welled up in Stella's eyes, but inwardly, she was grinning from ear to ear. *Good riddance to being the CEO's wife! I'm going back to being the richest woman alive!* Alexander was certain he'd never regret his decision. That is, until he saw his ex-wife surrounded by admirers, amassing wealth, and dominating every industry she touched. Power players from all fields bowed before her, declaring, "Little sister, just say the word, and we'll take down anyone who dares mess with you!" Swallowing his pride, Alexander squeezed his way into the crowd of handsome men. "Sweetheart, I take it back. Let's get back together."
Rachel used to think that her devotion would win Brian over one day, but she was proven wrong when his true love returned. Rachel had endured it all-from standing alone at the altar to dragging herself to the hospital for an emergency treatment. Everyone thought she was crazy to give up so much of herself for someone who didn't return her feelings. But when Brian received news of Rachel's terminal illness and realized she didn't have long to live, he completely broke down. "I forbid you to die!" Rachel just smiled. She no longer needed him. "I will finally be free."
Cast off to a remote village at birth, Lilah was exiled while the woman who destroyed her mother stepped into her father's life. Her half-sister tried to claim her inheritance and title. Eighteen years later, Lilah returned. The town watched, hoping to see her fail. But Lilah stunned them-she was breathtaking and talented. A master in medicine, painting, racing, music, and design, she tore down every lie. Her father and stepmother faced ruin, and her foolish brother finally met his downfall. The once-mocking crowd trembled, especially with Cayden, her gifted, powerful partner, at her side. "Anyone who crosses my wife has to answer to me!"
Gabriela learned her boyfriend had been two-timing her and writing her off as a brainless bimbo, so she drowned her heartache in reckless adventure. One sultry blackout night she tumbled into bed with a stranger, then slunk away at dawn, convinced she'd succumbed to a notorious playboy. She prayed she'd never see him again. Yet the man beneath those sheets was actually Wesley, the decisive, ice-cool, unshakeable CEO who signed her paychecks. Assuming her heart was elsewhere, Wesley returned to the office cloaked in calm, but every polite smile masked a dark surge of possessive jealousy.
When her half-sister stole her fiancé, scarred her face, and threw her from a skyscraper, Amelia thought it was the end-until fate gave her a second chance. Reborn with bitter clarity, she vowed not to repeat the same mistakes. In her past life, she had been kind to a fault; now, she would wear a mask of innocence to outmaneuver every snake in the grass. One by one, she tore down their schemes-leaving her treacherous sister begging, her stepmother pleading, her worthless father groveling, and her ex-fiancé crawling back. Her response was a cold smirk and two words: "Get lost." But the one thing she never anticipated was crossing paths with Damien Taylor-the most powerful and untouchable man in the capital-on the very first day of her new life. They said he was ruthless, ice-cold, immune to any woman's charm. Amelia believed it. until she learned the truth: the man was dangerously cunning. "Miss Johnson, I saved you. How about dinner?" "Miss Johnson, I helped you. Don't you owe me a favor?" Backed against the wall, Amelia felt his low voice vibrate through her: "You owe me too much, Amelia. It's time to pay up-starting with you." Only much later would she realize. she'd been owing him all along.
The silence in St. Patrick's Cathedral wasn't peaceful; it was a physical weight on Stella's shoulders, heavier than her wedding dress. She stood alone at the altar, ready for her perfect life, when her phone vibrated with a text that shattered everything. Her fiancé, Bryce, messaged just moments before the vows: "I can't do this. Monica needs me. I'm sorry." Monica, her maid of honor, was the reason he fled. Bryce's mother then publicly shamed Stella, implying her career ambition drove him away. The betrayal of her sacrifices, her future, and her dignity ignited a white-hot rage. Stella ripped off her veil, grabbed the microphone, and exposed the groom and maid of honor's affair to the stunned guests before storming out. A furious wreck in her ruined gown, she stumbled on the cathedral steps, meeting Julian Sterling, the "Cursed Son" in a wheelchair. He offered no pity, only a detached assessment. In a defiant, adrenaline-fueled moment, Stella crouched and asked, "Are you single?" Julian, needing a strategic alliance against his family, agreed to a cold, transactional marriage of convenience. With the City Clerk's office hours ticking down, Stella tore her dress, determined to forge a new path of vengeance and desperate necessity.
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