Vilhelm Moberg - The Settlers

Kristina’s reply was a faint whisper only, barely audible to herself, but it was a whisper that shook her whole being: “Yes. . yes. . you know it, Lord. . I’ve prayed to you for this moment. For long, long, I’ve wished it. I’ve waited and wished and prayed. You know how I’ve wished forgiveness through the sacrament. And you have heard my prayer. . you came to me here in my home — during the night. . Now I am ready — I am prepared to approach thy table, to be thy guest. . I come. .”

She leaned her forehead against the edge of the table so as not to fall. Her surroundings began to blur, she felt so dizzy. She could hear the minister’s voice, but not what he said. She heard psalm-singing, but not the words of the psalm. Human bodies were close to her, but she recognized them no longer. For now she was alone. She was alone in the world with her Savior, who on the cross had paid her sin debt with the blood which flowed from his spike wounds:

Behold, behold, all ye present. .

How sorely Jesus suffers. .

The words of the psalm completed the contrition. They cut through her breast, opened it wide, and exposed her repentant heart. Trembling and dizziness were upon her. Now she must submit, become dust; she had a sensation of fainting. . fainting away. .

So as Jesu’ suffering was,

No one’s suffering ever was. .

Then came the sobs which shook her, the first tears, trickling. People around her cried, loudly, steadily; to the right and to the left of her they sobbed and wept. But she did not hear them, she was absorbed in her own tears, surrendered to her own weeping, blissfully unresistible. So overpowering a weeping had not come on her since she was a little child.

And so it took place, while dissolved in tears, kneeling there as if separated from all other people, liberated from all earthly things, as if she were the only human being in the whole creation — thus Kristina, for the first time since her emigration, partook of the Lord’s Holy Supper.

Afterward she felt dazed and exhausted. Her limbs still trembled but it felt good in both body and soul to tremble this way. And on her face, her tears now dried by themselves — now the Savior dried them all from her cheeks. Her breast was still full and tense, her breathing still hot — but it was now only with joy that her heart overflowed.

Kristina had been a guest in her own house. And afterward she felt lighter of heart, more satisfied, than she had ever been since arriving in North America.

NOTE

1. “The situation had become so serious that the United States and several European countries sent protests to Sweden concerning the persecutions. .” George M. Stephenson: The Religious Aspect of Swedish Immigration, p. 143.

— 1—

About midsummer the little Swedish colony at Ki-Chi-Saga was increased by two new families; Lars Sjölin and his wife Ellida, a childless couple from Hassela, Helsingland, took land at the lakeside below Petrus Olausson’s claim, across from Nordberg’s Island. They were both in their forties. From Kettilstad in Östergötland came Algot Svensson and his wife Manda, who settled on a piece of land to the west of Duvemåla. They were about the same age as Karl Oskar and Kristina and had five small children. It was further known that several families had come from Småland and were squatting along the southern shores of the lake, and that still more Smålanders were on their way.

Immigrants from three Swedish provinces had found new homes around the big Indian lake. Karl Oskar and Kristina had Helsingland neighbors to the southeast and Östergötland neighbors to the west. Now they speculated where people would come from to claim the still unoccupied piece of land to the north of them.

They became acquainted with their new neighbors from Östergötland at once. Algot Svensson was a kind, small man, rather taciturn, the kind of settler who made little noise. His wife, Manda, on the contrary, was sociable, jolly, ever ready to talk. She related that she came from an old, well-to-do farmer family and that her parents had rejected her for marrying the hired hand on the farm. Manda Svensson had brought with her from Sweden two loom reeds, one of which she now presented to Kristina, who did not own one. The winter before, Karl Oskar had made with great difficulty a primitive loom, but he had been unable to make the reed, and there was no reedmaker among the settlers. Kristina almost jumped with joy at the gift from her neighbor. Through Ulrika’s efforts she had last year obtained a spinning wheel from Stillwater; it had been made for her by the Norwegian, Thomassen, who was both shoemaker and spinning-wheel maker. She had already spun last year’s flax, and with the blessed reed she could weave new clothing for them next winter; no one in the family had any longer an unpatched garment to put on.

Hard winter work awaited Kristina, while Karl Oskar labored most intensely during the warmer seasons. He was working on his threshing barn, which he hoped to have ready when the crops were ripe so that he could flail them under shelter. In years before, the ice had been his threshing floor, and the crops had lain unthreshed until the lake was ready to put down its floor; meanwhile, the pestiferous rats, mice, and other rodents had taken a sizable toll from his rye and barley. By putting up a threshing barn he would save many loaves for his family.

Now he split shakes for the barn roof, cut and worked the timbers for his new main house, dug on the foundation for his cellar, put up fences, mowed and dried grass and put the hay in stacks. All these chores must be done before the crops were ripe, when harvesting would take all his time.

When he was preparing the ground for the winter wheat field his southeast neighbor came and filled his ears with praise of the Indian corn. A word of advice from Petrus Olausson seemed like a command: let the field lie over winter and plant corn next spring!

Olausson had already planted this wonderful grain on his claim, he had begun banking the plants when they were an inch tall, and now they grew an inch a day in this heat. Corn would give up seventy bushels an acre. But he must choose the right kind of seed, the big kind, which gave ten ears to each plant, and three or four hundred kernels to each ear! Several thousand grains from one seed, many thousandfold! Because of sinful man, God had cursed the ground, but over one of the grains he had let flow his blessing — over the Indian corn! And corn was the healthiest and tastiest of foods for people and animals; bread was baked of corn, porridge and soup was cooked from it, pancakes made, a potent drink brewed, sugar distilled; livestock and hogs were fattened on it. Corn bread was the healthiest ever, it had in it some purgative power which gave the body its blessed opening; bread from Indian corn was the best remedy against hard bowels.

It was called lazy-man’s grain because the Indians cultivated it in their small patches, letting their poor women tend it alone. Karl Oskar wondered why God had so richly blessed the heathens’ corn above the grains of Christian people.

Petrus Olausson said that the name lazy-man’s grain did not suit the corn since it did not grow by itself, like hair on a head or nails on toes and fingers; it needed constant attention — weeding, hoeing, banking. But a well-cared-for field of corn at the peak of its growth was the most beautiful sight God had created on this earth.

Until Olausson raised corn none of the Swedes in the valley had tried this grain. They stuck to their old crops and were suspicious of new kinds. For what good could be expected from the Indians’ wretched farming? It was like dealing with the Evil One directly.