She was born to me on july fourth of july. My little baby girl. Born on the day the declaration of independence was declared. She would grow up learning what an important birthday she has, and she would grow up learning that it was president lincoln who declared it. She would grow up with fireworks every year on her birthday and she would grow up knowing why. Every little child would hear stories and she could say I was born on that day. She would tell tales to her grandchildren about how she was born on the same day the slaves were set free. The same day her people were set free. Her mama was a slave, her dada and she would be free. Be one of the first black citizens of america that would be free. She would be able to get a real job and not working for some white person who would treat her like dirt. Perhaps she would go back to her native homeland and meet her people, learn their ways. Or she might make a life here marry, have kids, be happy without worrying what would happen to her children. Now no black person of america is goping to have to worry about that. We are all free, we are all people of gods and it was d*mn time they realized that. She would have butt loads of children and grandchildren and not a thing would come to harm them. They won't be taken away from her or raised as slaves. They would be free, utterly completely free. Free. Her baby was one of the first free children of america. Free.