Harriet Tubman

As I lay so sick on my bed, from Christmas till March, I was always praying for poor ole master. 'Pears like I didn't do nothing but pray for ole master. 'Oh, Lord, convert ole master;' 'Oh, dear Lord, change dat man's heart, and make him a Christian.'

I would fight for my liberty so long as my strength lasted, and if the time came for me to go, the Lord would let them take me.

I had reasoned this out in my mind, there was one of two things I had a right to, liberty or death; if I could not have one, I would have the other.

Pears like I prayed all the time, 'bout my work, everywhere, I prayed an' groaned to the Lord.