The Thread Collectors

future where race and gender are not used against any individual, and instead where opportunity unfurls before all who are willing to reach for it.

She did not expect Jacob to recognize the source of the materials she used, particularly since she hardly ever showed him her more sentimental side, preferring to hide behind a veneer of practicality and strength. She knew he would only see constellations atop the interlocking of dark blue squares that made up the night sky. But since the war began, she knew the importance of putting her entire spirit into every endeavor. So as she fashioned the only protection she could now give him, she sewed her soul into every stitch.

Are you the man that says nothing or the man that acts upon his beliefs?

Without the fingerprint of the heart, it would only be sound... not music.

Like my mama tells me all the time, sometimes you just gotta be brave.

... her heart came through best when she was using her needle and thread.

I learned that my playin' could reach into people's souls. Got them out of their despair. Made 'em think 'bout their loved ones back home. Made 'em feel brave before they marched into battle. Made it feel safe for them to cry when they're sittin' 'round the campfire.

But as my sis always tells me, being scared is a choice. And so is being brave.

There was so much she could not control, but sewing a path through the darkness, how could that not be good?

That was the exhilaration of creating one's own compositions, that one's personal melodies could be reborn in the voices and spirits of others.

All those men fightin' for freedom. We gotta be brave too.

Take care of the roots in order to heal the tree.

she balances the tears from falling, an art she had been taught long ago—when she learned that survival, not happiness, was the real prize.

La expresión más intolerante de su poder sobre ella era que tenía prohibido amar a quien su corazón había elegido.

As everyone around her knew, there were so many ways to not be free.

Tilly found a bucket of white paint and began mixing it with indigo sediment and lime. She vowed her growing son would not grow up with evil spirits floating around him. So she mixed an indigo dye and stained the ceiling where William slept in haint blue, using another indigo-sodden rag to leave behind the tinge of turquoise on the rafters. Dragged upon foreign shores, early enslaved Africans believed the hue would trap the evil spirits that tried to do harm, tricking them to believe that the vibrant pigment was the sky or water, ensuring they remained at bay.

A smart woman doesn’t prevent a sister in arms from her aspirations,” she reminded Lily. “She supports her, she encourages her to keep reaching for more.