"To journal now is to record history, as witnessed through your own lens."
-- David G. Allan
(This is the first post in the Wondersmitten series of found stories and beauty that bring us a little closer to understanding the human condition, and a little more awe for the resilience of our neighbors.)
This story was all too common for the 1850s and it’s only through the happenstance of five generations of mothers and daughters, a sharp-eyed, flea-market shopper with a generous heart, and a diligent cultural anthropologist that we understand its twisted tale today.
The story starts in 1852 when wealthy Charleston, South Carolina, merchant and planter Robert Martin died leaving his holdings to his heirs. Included in that property were Rose (valued at $100) and her daughter Ashley, 9, valued at $300).
Apparently, to raise money for the estate, Ashley was sold to the Milberry Place Plantation in South Carolina, where she joined over 100 other slaves. On the day Ashley left, Rose gave her daughter a cotton sack filled with a dress, three handfuls of pecans, a braid of her own hair, and, most importantly, filled it with all her love.
Mother and daughter never saw each other again.
We don’t know what nine-year-old Ashely must have experienced after being forced to leave her mother for an unfamiliar world. However, we do know that the sack endured and, stained and yellowed, became a treasured heirloom, passed down, with the story, from mother to daughter, first to Rosa, Ashley's daughter, then to Ruth, the daughter of Rosa, and then to the daughter of Ruth, Dorothy, who died in 1988.
Rose to Ashley to Rosa to Ruth to Dorothy to a stranger:
1853 to 2007. One long journey for a simple, cotton sack.
What made this sack a treasure was the story it carried to five generations of mothers and daughters. In 1921, at age 18, Ruth embroidered the 56-word, heartbreaking story of Rose and Ashley on the sack. To this day, it reminds us of a time when the forced separation of mothers and daughters was accepted as a normal business transaction.
My great grandmother Rose
mother of Ashley gave her this sack when
she was sold at age 9 in South Carolina
it held a tattered dress 3 handfulls of
pecans a braid of Roses hair. Told her
It be filled with my Love always
She never saw her again
Ashley is my grandmother
Ruth Middleton
1921
Sometime after Dorothy's death, the sack made its way to Nashville where it was purchased by a woman at a flea market. Disturbed by the story of the separation of mother and child, the woman searched the internet and wound up gifting the sack to the Middleton Place Foundation. For years it was on loan to the Smithsonian and is now scheduled to be displayed at the new International African American Museum in Charleston. Thanks to the work of Central Washington University sociocultural anthropologist and museum-studies professor Mark Auslander, who traced the history of the sack, we now have this intergenerational story.
And, what is the connection of Ashley's sack to journaling?
For me, it's a reminder of the power of words, the power of stories, a reminder that we never know when the words we write in our letters or our journals may become a tangible connection from our past to the future.
Stories evaporate like dew on a sunny morning. It's only the ones we collect that live into the future. If not for Ruth Middleton's embroidery of that story on that cotton sack, a tiny bit of history would have died away like a campfire ember on a damp night.
The words and stories you write in your journal may not be as dramatic as Ashley's sack; however, they are part of you, part of your story, to be honored as part of your journey. You never know where those words will go or how they might touch others.
It’s also about the power of artifacts
Look around your environment and find a tangible item that has significant meaning for you. Write its story into your journal; tell its story to your children and grand children. It could be as simple as the round rock I’ve carried since a distant relative gave it to me when I was in the second grade. I’ve moved a lot, but that rock has always survived even the deepest downsizing. It wasn’t until I journaled about it that I re-experienced the trip to visit that relative, the delight I found in the beauty of her rock garden, and the sense of being special when she generously allowed me to pick a rock from her garden. In that moment, I felt treasured and that rock became a talisman of that feeling.
What is an artifact in your environment that holds a story and a feeling that makes it a treasure for you?
And if you would like to see other Gratitude Mojo posts, click here:
In good times and challenging ones, practicing gratitude helps us recognize the good things in our lives and build resilience for the challenges that come our way. Gratitude journaling is one of the best ways to better understand yourself and deepen your practice of gratitude.
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