The Plantation, The Owner, and the Slaves
An Analogy Story About Freedom
by Raimer Rojas
Inner Healing • Inner Healing Issues • From Bondage to Freedom • Living from Royal Identity (The Prince & the Pauper)
by Raimer Rojas
Inner Healing • Inner Healing Issues • From Bondage to Freedom • Living from Royal Identity (The Prince & the Pauper)
There was once a large plantation that stretched farther than the eye could see. Fields of cotton, rows of trees, barns, workshops, dirt roads, and at the center of it all, on a small hill, stood a large white house. Everyone on the land could see the house from almost anywhere they stood. The owner and his family lived in that house.
Down the hill, not far away but in a very different world, were the slave quarters — small wooden buildings, crowded rooms, worn beds, shared tables, and dirt floors. Smoke rose from small cooking fires in the evenings, and tired bodies rested after long days in the fields.
The slaves worked from sunrise to sunset. They worked the fields, fixed fences, repaired tools, carried water, cleaned barns, and did whatever the overseers told them to do. Their days were not their own. Their plans were not their own. Their future was not their own. Most of them had been born there. Their parents had lived there. Their grandparents had lived there. They did not remember a time when they were free.
Over time, something happened inside them. They stopped just living like slaves — they began thinking like slaves. They believed things like:
“This is just who we are.”
“We don’t belong in the big house.”
“We do what we are told.”
“We don’t get to choose.”
“We just try to survive.”
“Maybe if we work harder, life will be a little better.”
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Don’t dream too big.”
“Stay in your place.”
And every day they looked up at the big house on the hill. It felt close, but also very far away. It was a different world — a world of family, rest, laughter, decisions, and belonging. They worked the land, but they did not belong to it. They lived near the house, but they did not belong in it.
One day a new man came to the plantation. He did not come dressed like the owner. He did not come dressed like the overseers. He came and walked among the slaves. He worked with them. He ate with them. He listened to them. He helped them carry heavy loads. He bandaged wounds. He told stories about a different kind of life — a life where they were not slaves.
Some believed him. Some didn’t. Some were afraid to believe him. The overseers did not like him. They saw that the slaves were beginning to hope, and hope was dangerous. So they arrested him, beat him, and took him away.
For a few days, everything went quiet. The slaves went back to work. Back to the fields. Back to the same life. Back to the same thoughts. It felt like nothing had changed. Then one morning, a message spread across the plantation: “The ownership has changed.”
The man had returned, and now he was not just walking among them — He was the new owner. The old overseers were gone. The records were changed. The plantation now belonged to him. And a message was read to everyone on the land:
“You are no longer slaves. You are free people now. You do not work for me — you live with me. The house is open. The land is open. Come learn a new way to live.”
People stood in silence. Some cried. Some laughed. Some didn’t believe it. Some were afraid. The quarters were quiet that night.
The next morning, something strange happened. Many people still woke up early and went to the fields, waiting for someone to tell them what to do. But no one came. They looked around and said: “What are we supposed to do now?”
Some kept working exactly the same way as before, even though no one was forcing them. Some people said: “We should work twice as hard now to prove we deserve this freedom.” Some people said: “We are free now — we don’t have to do anything,” and they stopped caring about the land. Some people walked halfway up the hill toward the big house, then turned around because they felt like they did not belong there. Some people avoided the owner because they still felt afraid of him, even though he spoke kindly to them. Some people argued with each other about how to live now. Some people stayed in the slave quarters even though they were told they could live anywhere on the land. The plantation had changed owners, but the people had not changed yet.
A few people began walking up the hill to the house. At first they stood outside. Then one day the owner opened the door and said: “Come in. You don’t belong outside anymore.”
They sat at the table for the first time. They did not know where to sit. They did not know what to say. They felt uncomfortable. They felt like they were doing something wrong. But the owner smiled and said: “You are not slaves anymore. You are family now.”
He began walking the land with them and teaching them:
How to plant new fields
How to repair broken buildings
How to build new homes
How to care for animals
How to welcome new people
How to run the land together
He told them: “This land is not a slave plantation anymore. We are building something new here together.” Slowly, the land began to change. The quarters were repaired. New homes were built. Fields were replanted. Workshops were opened. Children played where slaves once labored. But the biggest change was not the land. The biggest change was the people.
It took a long time for them to stop:
Thinking like slaves
Living like slaves
Fearing like slaves
Working like slaves
Seeing themselves like slaves
Some changed quickly. Some changed slowly. Some never fully believed they were free. But the owner was patient. He kept reminding them:
“You are not slaves anymore. You are free. You are family. Walk with me, and I will teach you how to live this new life.”
And little by little, the plantation stopped looking like a place of slavery and started looking like a place where a family lived and worked together. But if you looked closely, you could still see some people living in the old quarters, waking up early, working like slaves, and never walking up the hill to the house — even though the door had been open the whole time. And sometimes the owner would walk down to the quarters, sit beside them, and gently say: “You are free now. You don’t have to live here anymore.”