Leader’s guide: Amanda Smith: An Autobiography (For Teens)

How did Samuel Berry manage to buy his own freedom and then his family’s?

His owner let him earn money on the side, so after a full day’s labor he made brooms and husk mats, and in harvest worked other fields until one or two in the morning, sleeping an hour. He bought himself first, then his wife and children.

Amanda said she had “been bought twice, and set free twice.” What does the chapter show about both kinds of freedom?

Her father paid a real price to buy her out of slavery, and the opening verse points to the Son who sets people “free indeed.” The chapter stresses that her freedom had a price and someone paid it.

The chapter warns that something can be legal and normal yet still wrong. Where might you be tempted to accept something just because everyone does it?

The chapter’s point: whole societies can agree on a lie. The Berrys told the truth about injustice and kept working and praying toward freedom rather than calling it fate. Start by learning what your own freedoms cost others.

When four men rode up one morning, what did Amanda’s mother do to protect the man hiding upstairs?

She hid him flat in the bed under the straw mattress, laid her small son on top, and calmly showed the searchers the boy, even inviting them to look under the bed. They left, and the man got to Canada.

What does Samuel’s call, “Mother, I see four men coming; do the best you can,” come to mean in the chapter?

It becomes a picture of faith in action: you don’t have to fix everything, but you do the brave, specific thing in front of you, now, before the moment passes.

When you see someone singled out or shut out, what keeps you from stepping in, and what could you actually do?

The chapter’s point: the Berrys acted at real risk for strangers, treating “rescue those being taken away” as an instruction with their own address on it. It suggests one concrete act within the hour — sit with them, speak up, walk them out.

Why did Amanda often get only one lesson after walking miles to school?

The white children got their full lessons first, and the Black children only got a turn if time was left over — sometimes squeezed in as others packed up to go home.

The chapter draws a line between “a bad deal” and “a dead end.” What does it mean by that?

The unfair treatment Amanda received was real and should be named, not smoothed over. But she refused to let it stop her — teaching herself letters from newspaper cut-outs on a windowsill. Nobody could give her a fair classroom; nobody could stop her learning.

Is there something you’ve decided you “can’t” learn because of a bad experience? What would a first step look like?

The chapter’s point: naming a bad deal isn’t making excuses, but it needn’t become a dead end. It suggests teaching yourself the very first piece for fifteen minutes, as Amanda did with letters, to prove the door isn’t locked.

What happened to Amanda’s faith after she read the book of debate between a minister and an unbeliever?

The skeptic’s case stuck in her memory while she forgot the minister’s answers. She quietly stopped being sure God existed, kept reading more of the same, and became afraid and secretly miserable — “snared.”

Why did her aunt’s refusal to argue break the snare when a debate might not have?

Her aunt didn’t accept the frame Amanda had fallen into; her look “went through me like an arrow.” Amanda believed that a point-by-point argument would have left her trapped for good.

What voice, channel or feed has been quietly shaping how you see the world? How would you know if it’s helping you?

The chapter’s point: what you read and scroll isn’t neutral, and being smart isn’t the same as being safe. Ask whether it makes you more truthful, and talk it through with an older person you trust — snares grow in secret.

What happened in the cellar on the afternoon Amanda finally found peace with God?

After resolving “I WILL,” she went down on her knees, praying she must have salvation that afternoon. At the end of herself she said, “O, Lord, if Thou wilt help me I will believe Thee,” and in saying it she believed. Her burden rolled off.

The chapter says Amanda’s strong will was “the exact thing in the way.” What does it mean?

She wanted to come to God on her own terms — no scene, no embarrassment, no loss of control. That determination kept her stuck; the breakthrough came when she stopped negotiating and simply trusted Him.

What conditions might you be quietly attaching to getting serious about God?

The chapter’s point: seeking God “with all your heart” meant dropping the conditions — not protecting your image or control. It suggests naming your one condition plainly and acting on that exact point as if you trust God more than your image.

Why did Amanda have to travel into Maryland, and what did she do when she reached the farm?

Her freeborn sister Frances had been sold for forty dollars for a ten-year term. Facing a furious man with a horsewhip and no legal protection, Amanda paid the forty dollars and brought Frances home, then spent years working off the debt.

The chapter calls this “a hard, grown-up kind of love.” What makes it so?

Amanda owed nothing — Frances was never anyone’s lawful property — yet she paid an unjust price because her sister mattered more than the principle. She never pretended it was fair; she just decided Frances came first.

Who in your life is treated unfairly and can’t fix it alone? What would helping them cost you?

The chapter’s point: the immature response is “That’s not fair, so I won’t.” It suggests doing one thing this week that costs you something and you technically “don’t have to” do — love that waits for fairness isn’t what Amanda practiced.

What did Mother Jones tell Amanda as she cried over the washtub?

She didn’t say the pain would end; she said Amanda needed “enduring grace” — strength to stand up inside the trouble. Amanda realized she’d been “planning to get out of trials, instead of asking God for grace to endure.”

How does the chapter read the verse “my power is made perfect in weakness”?

It doesn’t promise power instead of weakness, but power right in the middle of it. The deeper gift is grace strong enough to carry you through the thing that does not disappear.

Is there a hard thing in your life that probably won’t just vanish? How might you pray differently about it?

The chapter’s point: don’t measure God only by how fast He removes pain. Pray not only “take this away” but “hold me up in this,” and go sit with someone grieving, as Mother Jones did with Amanda.

Why did Amanda hold back her joy during the sermon at Green Street Church?

She was the only Black person there, and a voice kept warning that if she made a noise in front of all those white people they would put her out. She sat on her hands and smothered her joy twice.

What changed when Galatians 3:28 came to her, and what did she mean that the mountain “had become a molehill”?

The verse showed her that in Christ race, class and gender don’t decide worth. She stood and shouted “Glory to Jesus,” and the people she’d always feared now looked small; the fear itself had shrunk.

Where do you make yourself small because you feel you don’t rank? What would standing up there look like?

The chapter’s point: the truest thing about you isn’t your rank in anyone’s eyes but your standing before God, who counts you as one, not less. It suggests doing one honest thing you’d normally suppress — speak up, take the seat, ask.

How did Amanda get her shoes before going to Salem?

She told no one but God, prayed for the money and claimed the shoes by faith. Days later an old man pressed money into her hand at a meeting — five dollars — and she remembered the shoes.

When the accusation came that people would say she was looking for a husband, what did Amanda learn?

She knelt and asked for a companion, and was reminded of God’s promise: “Did I not tell you that I would go with you?” She learned to tell God’s guidance from the crowd’s opinion, then went alone.

Is there something right you’ve put off mainly because of how it would look?

The chapter’s point: “Who do you think you are?” stops many people cold, but Amanda judged obeying God safer than staying comfortable. It suggests taking the first concrete step this week, alone if necessary.

Why did Amanda write a letter turning down the trip to England?

Beneath her “who am I?” she was terrified of the sea, picturing it as always rough and deadly. She worried about the distance and her daughter, and turned it down, feeling relieved for a while.

What did Amanda mean that she was “of the royal black” when proud passengers looked down on her?

She had come to believe she belonged to royal stock as a child of God. So instead of arguing or shrinking, she looked two well-dressed women squarely in the face and carried herself with dignity.

Where are you telling others to be brave or faithful in a way you’re privately dodging?

The chapter’s point: Amanda had exempted herself from her own message. When God named it she didn’t defend herself but said, “Lord, that is the truth,” and crossed the ocean. It suggests doing the scary thing you keep telling others to do.

How did Amanda respond to the Christians in India who quoted “Let your women keep silence” against her?

Though she usually didn’t argue, one night she preached from the same passage, quoting “Let your men keep silence in the church,” showing it was about order, not silencing half the church. The articles and letters then stopped.

What did watching the potter in Paris teach Amanda?

The potter had total control of the clay, and the colors came out only after the furnace. She prayed to be like clay in God’s hands, to submit and “not dictate,” trusting the potter through the furnace of opposition.

When someone uses a rule or twisted fact to shut you down, how do you usually respond?

The chapter’s point: rather than melting down or firing back hotter, know your material better, stay calm, and keep going. Amanda out-studied her critics instead of out-shouting them. Learn the source and context, then say your say and go on.

Why did Bob’s father, Jack, ask Amanda to take his son?

Jack said he did not know God and didn’t want his child to grow up the same. He asked Amanda to take Bob and teach him about God; his parents later signed an agreement for her to raise and educate him.

What did God mean in saying, “You are not trusting in Me, you are trusting in America”?

Amanda had been praying for money while counting on friends back in America to send it. When she let go of that safety net and trusted God alone, help began coming from unexpected places.

What problem feels too big for you to touch? What is one small thing you could actually do?

The chapter’s point: “You do what you can, and where you leave off, God will raise up somebody to do the rest.” You don’t have to fix it all — take the one person or need in front of you this week.