He was a proud man, a leader in every sense of the word. He wore the burdens of every generation before him; praying for the day when the load would lift, even alittle.

As nights became days, and the sun’s unmerciful rays called him back to the field.. He prayed, that the load would lift, even a little. Every torn that pricked his skin, every blister that formed upon his arms, the labor was far too much, for even a proud man.

The sun moved past twelve, the sun dial said so. He prayed his burden would lift, even alittle. The Good Lord was his saving Grace.. This his momma taught him… “You just gotta keep on doing what the Master’s say!” She would mind him. His momma had so much wisdom.

Then, one day, the most unusual thing happened. He was instructed to grab his things, and flee. There were wars inside the walls of the grand house… And His people risked the chance to gain freedom.

This statue is Mr Gregor, the bravest and most honorable man from Zumberhill Plantation. The missing parts of his body are said to be pieces he left in all that he touched… While the rest were the bare minimum of necessities, in his bag. He never minded giving so much of himself, for the Good Lord promised Streets of Gold… So he prayed, and prayed, for the lighter load.

Hope you enjoyed.
Nova Namastè