Letter From A Desperate Cherokee

Part 4

Time and time again, we have made treaties with the United States. We've understood the conditions set forth in each new agreement, and done our best collectively to uphold those agreements. It's in our code of honor to hold true to our word, yet we've found time and time again that the promises made to us haven't been kept, or were sincerely made but were applied only by a minority of the people at best.

How can so noble and just a people as the Americans, the same people who have fought for liberty, equality and justice, not feel sorrow and empathy for such an abused and mistreated civilization? We've been forced to leave everything we love, everything we've ever known, behind, made to walk thousands of miles, in harsh, cruel weather. By day we burn, by night we freeze. The blisters upon our feet swell and burst. The children wither and die before our eyes, exposed to the elements, the environment, and lack of food. Our fingers fall off from frostbite. The soldiers kick us when we walk too slowly, as if we have the energy to keep going. The light that once shone so brightly in our eyes is dim, as bleak and dark as the cold, cruel frost that threatens to envelope us if we stop moving. Tears are shed, blood is spilt, and still we march down this Trail, and for what purpose? That a few men may have more land, land that we were all too happy to share from the beginning?