An inspiring tale of creativity and determination on the Underground Railroad from Coretta Scott King Award winner James Ransome and acclaimed author Deborah Hopkinson. Clara, a slave and seamstress on Home Plantation, dreams of freedom—not just for herself, but for her family and friends. When she overhears a conversation about the Underground Railroad, she has a flash of inspiration. Using scraps of cloth from her work in the Big House and scraps of information gathered from other slaves, she fashions a map that the master would never even recognize. . . . From the award-winning author-illustrator team of Deborah Hopkinson and James Ransome, this fictional tale of the Underground Railroad continues to inspire young readers 25 years after its original publication. "Inspiring." — The New York Times "A triumph of the human spirit." — Publishers Weekly , starred review "A particularly effective way to introduce the subject to younger children, adding a trenchant immediacy to their understanding of a difficult but important chapter in the country's past."--(starred) Horn Book. "This first-rate book is a triumph of the heart."--(starred) Publishers Weekly.   Illus. in full color. As a seamstress in the Big House, Clara dreams of a reunion with her Momma, who lives on another plantation--and even of running away to freedom. Then she overhears two slaves talking about the Underground Railroad. In a flash of inspiration, Clara sees how she can use the cloth in her scrap bag to make a map of the land--a freedom quilt--that no master will ever suspect. Illus. in full color. As a seamstress in the Big House, Clara dreams of a reunion with her Momma, who lives on another plantation--and even of running away to freedom. Then she overhears two slaves talking about the Underground Railroad. In a flash of inspiration, Clara sees how she can use the cloth in her scrap bag to make a map of the land--a freedom quilt--that no master will ever suspect. Deborah Hopkinson has written many acclaimed picture books, including  A Letter to My Teacher ;  Sky Boys: How They Built the Empire State Building , a Boston Globe–Horn Book Honor Book; and  Abe Lincoln Crosses a Creek: A Tall, Thin Tale , an ALA-ALSC Notable Children’s Book. She lives in Oregon with her family. Visit her at deborahhopkinson.com. James Ransome  is the illustrator of many award-winning titles for children, including  The Creation  by James Weldon Johnson, which won a Coretta Scott King Award for illustration, and Let My People Go: Bible Stories Told by a Freeman of Color  by Patricia and Fredrick McKissack, winner of an NAACP Image Award. His other titles include  This Is the Rope: A Story from the Great Migration  by National Book Award winner Jacqueline Woodson, Young Pelé: Soccer's First Star  by Lesa Cline-Ransome, and  Sky Boys: How They Built the Empire State Building by Deborah Hopkinson. He lives in New York. Visit him at jamesransome.com. Chapter One  You see, but you do not observe.  --Sherlock Holmes, in “A Scandal in Bohemia”   I kept my head down as I went around the curve, hoping the pan wouldn’t fly off my head. With my right hand, I steadied my quivering spaniel and tried to keep her from toppling out of the basket. Still, even one-handed, I swear I would’ve made the turn with no problem.  Except. Except the girl was standing in the middle of Maddox Street. I shouted, “Hey, watch out!”  Too late. I had to let go of Little Roo. I grabbed both handlebars and pulled hard to the left. I wasn’t quick enough. My right pedal struck the girl’s shin; we all went down. I banged my left knee. The pan clattered away and LR tumbled out of the basket. She bounced up and began barking and twirling in circles like a crazy windup toy. Overhead, bombers roared. From the ground, ack-ack guns shot defensive fire into the sky. I scrambled to my feet, rubbing my knee.  “Are you all right?” I yelled over the din.  The girl didn’t answer at first. I reached out a hand to help her up. She pushed it away. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”  “Me? You were standing in the street! You’re lucky I wasn’t a bus: You would’ve been crushed flat.”  Then I stopped. Pointless. It was pointless to argue. I could tell from her accent that the girl was an American. The city was crawling with them. Soldiers in uniform, journalists, navy and army officers sporting stripes and medals, young women in crisp American Red Cross uniforms. Everyone had come to prepare for the invasion of France. It was the only way the Allies could defeat Hitler and end the war.  I knew as well as anyone that we needed the Americans, but there was a part of me that resented these strangers. They hadn’t been here during the worst of it. Three years ago, the Blitz had gone on and on. We’d lived through all-night bombing raids, incendiary bombs designed to burn London to the ground, rubble and destruction on street after street. A lot of kids had been sent to the countryside. My older