A Light Shining in a Dark Place

Mercy paused, her heart thumping in her ears as she cocked her head to one side. Was that the baying of the tracker’s hounds? Or just the wind whipping through the pines?

She listened for a moment, finally deciding–hounds or not–she must go on.

She thanked the good Lord for the full moon.  She thanked Him, too, for the clouds that skidded across the sky.  Both would be useful tonight. She didn’t dare use a lantern, but that was no matter; she knew these woods, often following this same trail to water her herd of sheep at the river.

She felt the chill river air even before she heard the water’s gurgling. The ice was off the water now, so her “passengers”—slaves escaping from Kentucky—would be crossing by boat.

Dangers abounded: Had they found the flatboat hidden for them in the weeds?  To fall into the water would likely mean death, either from freezing or by being washed away by the current. Would they be found out by bounty hunters from the South seeking to return the slaves to their “masters”? Even some Northerners here in Ohio would gladly turn over a slave in order to earn some money.

Mercy swiftly followed the trail to Widow Brown’s house. It stood atop a rickety set of stairs climbing the hill from the water. Mercy breathed a prayer of thanksgiving: the lamp was lit in the window, signaling to the travelers that it was safe to approach. Mercy was to meet them there and lead them to the next station, a good night’s walk north.

“Sister Brown,” Mercy called out as she reached the step.

Eliza Brown opened the door and greeted her warmly. Once inside, with the door locked behind them, Widow Brown gestured to the fruit cellar.

“We have three passengers on the railroad tonight: a girl about your age, her younger sister, and their mother.  Their father was caught just on the other side of the river. He was able to shove the boat off before the dogs got him.  In the confusion and with the cloud cover, the hunters didn’t even realize he wasn’t traveling alone.”

A soft sniffling came up through the floorboards.

The good woman continued in a whisper, “They are beside themselves with fear and sorrow, but I still think it best you travel tonight. William will be expecting them at the next station by daybreak.”

Mercy nodded and followed Sister Brown to the trapdoor. Together they lifted the heavy door, revealing three pairs of frightened eyes. Extending her hand, Sister Brown helped them up the ladder.

“Mercy will lead you to the next station. She knows these parts and has a good head on her shoulders. She may be young, but you can trust her.”

She busied her hands with wrapping four small packages of biscuits and sausages. When she turned back to them, her eyes were shining with tears. “Let’s ask the Lord’s blessing.”

Hands joined—black and white, plump and smooth, old and wrinkled.  “O, Lord, I ask You to guide their steps tonight. Keep the Evil One at bay, Lord, and hold them in the palm of Your hand. In the name of Jesus, our merciful Savior. A-men.”

Tucking her own scarf around the little one, Sister Brown hurried them out the back door into the garden.

“If your husband is able to escape again, I will tell him where you’ve gone.”

***

They had been walking for hours, the silence broken only by the scuffling of their feet and an occasional whimper. The moonlight slanting through the trees lit their path enough that they didn’t use the lantern Mercy carried. Whenever they came to a clearing, they skirted around the edges … “in case someone is watching for us,” Mercy whispered.

They stopped to eat their food and drink from a stream. They all took turns carrying the sleeping little one.

Trudging along, the mother murmured, “The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul; He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.”

Quietly, the two girls joined in, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

“We’re almost there,” Mercy announced. “Do you see that farmhouse on yonder hill?” Suddenly, she pulled them down beside her in the weeds. “The lamp is not lit! In William’s window…the lamp is not lit! The slave traders must be nearby.”

Heart pounding, she thought for a moment. “I have an idea. When you see the men follow me, stay in the shadows and go to the barn.  Climb up in the hay loft.  William will find you there at daybreak.”

Mercy grasped the mother’s hand. “Go with God.”

The woman nodded and squeezed her hand.

Mercy swung in a wide circle away from the three travelers and lit her lantern. “Sukie! Tessie!” she called loudly.

Two men rode up on horseback.  “You, there! What are you doing out here in the night?”

“Oh, good sir, I am looking for my lost sheep.  Have you seen them?” She pointed south. “I come from that direction.  Would you be so kind as to help me? I can’t go home without them.”

The two strangers looked at each other.  One offered her a hand to mount his horse behind him. They headed back toward the river.

Huddled in the weeds, the family offered thanks to the Good Shepherd.