Black  Ann Shattio,

sister of compassion,

God’s mercy magnified,

You saved me because

you saved my ancestors

(whether to be born

a child of this family,

or to have been a soul

born into a different body,

therein lies my difference.)

You saint of old Topeka,

may God illuminate you

as an example to us all,

you who knew early in life

the pain of the unfulfilled spirit,

and the hell of deprivation,

stolen as a 10-year-old child

into slavery from parents in Illinois

to be sold repeatedly in Missouri,

finally buying your freedom

at Uniontown, Kansas, in 1849,

seizing the liberties of a new land,

marrying the St. Louis Frenchman,

Clement Shattio,

only the following year,

persistence, wonderful persistence,

you learned it so very well,

and you shared it with many

who came to pioneer the soil.

Deserted by their guide,

sick of fever,

and low on food,

the family of my Great Great Grandmother,

Rosa Vascalda,

French-speaking Belgians,

halted by the mound that became Burnett’s,

full of forboding of the unfamiliar prairie,

the unfamiliar culture,

and alone in a land of English speakers.

Someone who came along,

managed to make it known

that a Frenchman and his black woman

lived in their cabin

along the Shunga Nunga.

Poor Great Great Great Grandfather,

Andrew Vascalda,

 finished that walk

over the vast expanse of grass

on his hands and knees

where you took him in your arms,

brought his family home,

and nursed them back to health

and happiness in the freedom

of a new and bountiful land,

where work,

and being good to your neighbors,

truly paid,

as you so frequently showed,

the gifts of the honest heart

multiplied for our examples.

God All-Powerful,

If a person of this world

may bless a person of the next,

then let me ask the best you have

for Ann Davis Shattio.

May her example shine

for all time

that when we do

for the least of our brethren,

we do it for You.

Copyright 2009, Jerry W. Engler