Watch the Lilies How They Grow

By Dag Gustav Gundersen Storla

In the third novel, Watch the lilies how they
grow, Josephine has left her hometown Stavanger
behind and is embarking on the long boat trip to
New York. She travels by rail to South Dakota -
where Alvin is waiting. A new life awaits.
In Stavanger, Andreas is working hard to make
his tailor business succeed. He sees opportunity,
and this steers him towards a safe position
among the city's businessmen. In this third and
This final novel follows the siblings, Josefine and
Andreas, into a new century. On either side of the
Atlantic, they experience both the shaping and
crumbling of their dreams. When the stakes are
high, there is a lot to be lost. But is the price so
high that they can lose themselves?

Introducing a popular Norwegian success to North America!
Dag Gustav Gundersen Storla (born 1962) is a Norwegian physician, and a former medical missionary to Bangladesh. He has a special interest in the local history of his hometown, Stavanger, as well as the Norwegian pioneers of the West.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9780359062584

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Watch the Lilies How They Grow

Watch the Lilies How They Grow

Copyright © 2018 Dag Gustav Gundersen Storla

Historical Novel

Dag Gustav Gundersen Storla

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Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission. NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION® and NIV® areregistered trademarks of Biblica, Inc. Use of either trademark for the offering

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used factiously.

Siskin Publishing

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or

links contained in this book may have changed since publication and

may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those

of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher,

w and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Siskin Publishing rev. date: 30th  of August, 2018

Translated by Jean Mary Helland

To Olde, Besten, Bagge and Geta,

those who showed me the Stavanger that once was.

The Storm

1888

The winter had been hard and long. However, this Thursday morning, the 12th of January 1888, there was a mildness in the air. Alvin knew that it would not last; it was just a pause before it all started again. But for how long?

He had realized that it was not possible to postpone the visit any longer. Today he had to ride out to them. Jens had been so proud when he asked. Godfather? Him? It was the first time anybody had ever asked such a thing. He had been so surprised, had not had the imagination to think that anybody would ask him – for something like that. Was he spiritually mature enough to take that responsibility? But there had been no time for reflection. Four eyes full of expectation looked at him, and the answer had to be yes, of course.

Immediately after breakfast he saddled his horse and took with him what he needed for an overnight trip, if he was to be invited to stay. He knew that they would try to make him stay. More generous and hospitable people than the Reiersens were not to be found. Amanda and Jens had a special ability to make him feel appreciated, as if he was the only person in the world who meant anything to them just at that moment. Hans Reiersen was the leader of the clan and had taken Alvin under his wing right from the first day of their Atlantic crossing. But he was fifteen years older and could not exactly be called a friend. It was something else with his son, Jens. They had enjoyed each other’s company from the start, even though Jens was some years younger. The day that Jens began to show an interest in Amanda, he had been visiting his father. On the Sunday morning, they had decided to go to the Lutheran church. Afterwards they had shared all the food they had with them outside the church as it was Thanksgiving. Really, it was Alvin the girl had talked to first. She was standing behind a table and pouring out lemonade. He had felt a burning sensation in his chest when he saw her. So much alike! Was it possible? The same blonde hair which surrounded a harmonious, oval face. She did not have Josephine’s high forehead, but absolutely the same intense, clear blue wide-open eyes.

He must have had a sheepish look on his face, as the girl suddenly threw back her head and laughed out loud. But before he had managed to explain, her glance had caught the sight of the ring on Alvin’s left hand. The laughter ceased abruptly. Alvin saw that she blushed and broke the embarrassed silence that followed by introducing her to Jens. A year later they were married, and Jens had bought land, and settled next to his father and two older brothers. For the time being, they had not been able to afford a timber house, and they lived in a simple earth house. His father could have helped them with some dollars, so that they could have built a proper house, but no. If earth had been good enough for them, it was good enough for their sons as well. He was convinced that if his sons got a too easy start, then they would lack the toughness and endurance to survive out here. And Jens and Amanda appeared not to lack anything.

All the men in the Reiersen clan were plucky and tough. Farmers as far back as anyone could remember and obsessed with cultivating. Alvin could not really understand why Hans had got involved with the shop. He suspected that it was solely for Alvin’s sake. He knew it was the same with uncle Mads. He could probably see no alternative for the poor nephew, who everybody could see was a useless farmer. Not least because of this, he had resolved that he would get through these hard times. Whatever it cost. For her.

As he sat on his horse, Alvin suddenly felt full of gratitude. He had met with so much goodness, so many generous people. America was a strange mixture of a tough fight to survive and touching consideration and helping hands.

The twenty-three English miles between Mitchell and Plankinton went well, despite the snow. He had been riding for a little more than two hours and was just outside the little town when he took off straight northwards. Jens had bought a quarter of a section[1] from someone who had given up, which more than half of those who tried had done. Between each section there was a straight, narrow gravel path so the whole landscape looked like a Scottish kilt. The comparison continued as each square had a different color, depending on what was being cultivated there, and whether it had been harvested or not.

However, today the whole kilt lay hidden under a meter of snow. Alvin looked out over the endless white landscape. The only things that broke the monotony were the small groups of trees that were planted around each farmyard to protect the houses against the merciless wind. There were only a few hundred more meters until he was between the low houses. He entertained himself by trying to guess what kind of good food Amanda had prepared. He felt really hungry when he thought about it; the bachelor food he normally lived on was not much to shout about. He stopped, shaded his eyes with his hand and looked again. Yes, without a doubt, there was the farmhouse. He noticed with a smile that there was thick smoke billowing out of the chimney and got his horse to trot more quickly.

Suddenly there was a sound. It sounded like a train coming from behind him.

A train? Here? But it’s more than twenty miles to Mitchell – the nearest railway line.

A cold ice spur hit him in the neck. He turned his horse and was immediately enveloped in a chaos of howling wind and thick whirls of snowflakes. He could hardly breathe. In a moment, both the house and all the other landmarks had vanished in a white inferno. He groped in the saddle pack and finally found the fur hat he had been careless enough not to put on. It was not a second too soon. The skin on his face was already numb, and he had to rub it continuously with his gloves. The temperature had fallen dramatically in the course of a couple of minutes, and in such a cyclone, it would not take so long before he contracted incurable frostbite damage. He took the scarf he had hanging round his neck and bound it tightly round his face. Tried to remember which direction the house lay in. It must be …? He noticed that the horse was frightened. It whinnied loudly and shrilly as it reared up and tried to throw him off. Alvin gripped the reins tightly and pushed the spurs hard into the sides of the animal. He had to show him who had authority. After a while it felt as if the horse calmed down and with an extra tug on the reins he managed finally to continue in the direction he thought the house lay.

One hundred meters. No house. Two hundred. Three hundred – and still nothing.

Alvin felt the panic rise in him, like an icicle boring its way into his heart. There was no doubt, he had missed the farmyard, had ridden in the wrong direction. Visibility was no more than a meter. He was somewhere out on the prairie, probably he had missed Jens and Amanda’s house by only a few meters. It was of no consequence how near he really was. He did not know how long he had been riding around. A few minutes? An hour? Two? He was not equipped for a snowstorm, and the icy cold penetrated deeper and deeper into him. A numbing laziness came over him. Even though the aware and sensible part fought desperately against it.

The horse had nearly stopped; it wandered around aimlessly as Alvin was unable to control it any longer. He slumped forwards, leaned on the horse’s neck as he fell in and out of consciousness. Soon he would no longer be able to stay in the saddle.

Was this the end? Was this really the termination of everything?

He saw that dear face. She sat by the window, which had pure, white curtains that were fluttering in the summer breeze. The blue eyes looked out over the sea, they had a dreamy expression, as if she saw him. Her heart beat so evenly and faithfully. It should have been there by now, the letter with the ticket. Why had she not written?

Oh, Josephine, dearest Josephine! God, who rules over everything up there in heaven - don’t let it end like this! You cannot let this happen - do you hear? Jesus Christ, have mercy on me … no ... no.

Round him the snowstorm continued with unabated strength. He was lost.

---

[1] According to the Homestead Act a section was 640 acres

The Crossing

1888

Josephine looked apprehensively up at the huge, white painted ship that appeared out of the morning mist in front of her. Was she really going to spend the next eight days deep inside this steel monster? The agent had fetched them at dawn from their simple lodgings. She had given up counting how many flea bites she had and she was stiff and aching over her whole body. There was hardly anything that could be called a mattress on the bed, and the only thing over her had been her own duvet cover.

The crossing from Stavanger to Hull with Wilsons’ old hulk had lived up to its reputation, and the nights in England had been even worse. If it was to go on like this … She felt her chest tighten at the thought of the disgusting smell of vomit, sweaty bodies and worse.

Andreas had decided that Josephine should travel over to America with the White Star Line’s newest ship, the Arabic. Right from when he had been a boy and had followed close on Lauritz’s heels, he had been obsessed by ships. He knew everything about building techniques and tonnage and loved steam ships best of all.

«This ship was built by Harland & Wolf in Belfast in 1881, and weighs a total of 4368 tons.» Andreas had lectured all about it having three decks and four masts, so that the ship, if needed, could sail. He spoke about the two engines with together four cylinders which gave 550 horsepower. Josephine had only half listened, but when she finally stood in front of this monster, she had to admit that the huge, white ship was both awe-inspiring and beautiful.

The Norwegian-speaking agent was nearly as broad as he was tall. He was busy helping his flock on board the ship, went in front, and made a way through the crowd. He chattered incessantly and tried to outdo the noise of voices all around them. Josephine had never before seen so many people in one place, and couldn’t understand a word of what they were saying. She was quite frightened, and looked anxiously around her all the time. There were many stories of people who had both been robbed and had their luggage stolen. Fortunately, her heavy suitcase for America had been carried on board into the hold the day before. She took an extra firm grip on the homespun bag that contained everything she needed on the trip, and registered that they had reached the gangway onto the ship.

The agent breathed heavily and lifted his hat in order to dry the sweat from his bald head. «Do you see the blue band painted on the funnel? «he said and pointed so far up that Josephine had to put her head back to look. «It is called the ‘The Blue Ribbon’- and means that this ship has a speed record over the Atlantic. The Arabic can cross the Atlantic in seven to eight days.»

At the same time as he was speaking, he was leading his flock up the gangway. Josephine got a firm hold on the wire that served as a railing. She felt quite dizzy.

Do I really want this?

Once more, she heard her own voice read the letter that she had written to Alvin. She could see his hands as he opened it; the sensitive, steel grey eyes as he read down the page. Then the rising anger and disappointment: Had he … wept? Every word she had written was alive in her like glowing irons. They burnt in her breast, kept coming into her thoughts like a whirlwind of shame and despair.

Do I really want this?

I have let him down, she thought. Taken hope from him. How could I?

But the words were written, they could not be recalled. She herself had managed to lose him. Why in the world was she now leaving everything in order to find him?  Did she not know in all common sense that what she had taken on was impossible? Nothing could repair what she herself had broken. But she had to get on board this ship. She had nothing. Was nobody. Any idiot could tell her that she would be promptly turned away. Why would she put herself through that? She had no answer. But no power in the world could keep her back.

The gangway lead straight on to the middle deck, where most passengers had their cabins. There was in addition a third class, and then there were the salon passengers and those in first class, who were separated from the rest. Josephine threw a hidden glance at the elegantly dressed passengers who were being politely lead up the steps to the upper deck.

I wonder what it is like to travel first class? To be treated like a princess?

But she did not really long for that. What had they really got out of life, these pretty porcelain doll-like figures that walked about in their finest clothes. It must be very boring. No, she preferred to roll up her sleeves and do an honest day’s work. They had worked hard so that they had a good income and did not need to travel third class. And the middle deck on this steamer was above all expectations so far. Everything was new and well-looked after, and when she looked down the deck she could see row upon row of newly oiled teak doors which contrasted well with the white painted steel.

She had been told that the middle deck had a special area for single women at the back of the ship. She had been met by a matron, such an authoritative example of the female sex that Hilde Gautegård was a weakling in comparison. She introduced herself as Mrs. Gaiter, and never allowed there to be more than two meters between Josephine and herself until they had reached their destination. Josephine noticed that they were in an area of the ship that was quite cut off from the other cabins.  She had seen several examples of Mrs. Gaiter both attending to the single passengers and looking after them. The beds were of canvas, but Josephine saw that they were folded against the wall when they were not in use during the day, so that there was room for a table and chairs. Two women, one fair-haired, who was probably about twenty, and another one with thick, brown hair, whom Josephine estimated to be about thirty, her own age, were already in place. They had occupied each of the lower beds, it seemed.

«Good morning! « said Josephine cautiously and tried a smile towards the two who were to be her closest travelling companions for the next eight days. «My name is Josephine Wiig. « She reached out her hand to the nearest woman, who was blonde like herself.

«A pleasure. My name is Rebecca Ekdal,» she replied, as she hesitantly took hold of the outreached hand and managed a stiff smile.

«Is it alright if I take the bunk above you? «

Rebecca nodded. She looked embarrassed, and kept her eyes fixed on the table in front of her.

Josephine put down her luggage in the cupboard that belonged to the left upper bunk, before she turned to the other woman.

Let’s hope she is friendlier, and that she at least speaks Norwegian, she thought as she continued to smile fixedly. She reached out her hand again.

«Whom do I have the pleasure of ...»

«Maria – Maria Jordheim. So nice that we are several Norwegians!» She took the outstretched hand and gave Josephine a firm handshake. The smile that followed was genuine and warm.

Josephine felt a rush of joy go through her. She had the habit of making up her mind about new people she met in the course of the first five minutes. And her intuition had seldom let her down.

This girl is a good sort, and I think we are going to be good friends, she thought excitedly.

«Yes, the same to you. It is nice to speak our mother tongue – it’s so familiar. You will have to excuse me, but I cannot speak a word of English, so I will be speaking Norwegian here.»

«I can’t speak any more English than you, « said Maria with a smile. She paused a moment, looked at Josephine for a few seconds before she said: «Can’t we be informal, Josephine?»

«Yes, of course, that’s fine with me,» said Josephine, relieved. She suddenly remembered Rebecca and quickly added: «Yes, and we understand Swedish on the whole too. We three will be fine together.» She tried to catch Rebecca’s eye but didn’t manage to. She noticed that the Swedish girl blushed when she spoke to her, but otherwise said nothing.

«Do you know who the fourth person is?»

Maria shook her head. «No, I haven’t had time to look at the passenger list, but they try to place those who speak the same language in the same cabins.»

«Shall we go exploring? I really would like to see what everything looks like. This ship is of a much higher caliber than the hulk we came over here with. There is some style here! Are you coming?»

«I’d like to, «said Maria happily. «It’s a long time before we leave, and we have nothing better to pass the time.»

They looked questioningly at Rebecca, but she shook her head.

Josephine noticed that she was both questioning and irritated over how reserved the Swedish girl was. She herself tended to become extra talkative and rushed when she was uncertain, and was the one who took the responsibility of filling in embarrassing silences. It was often a blessing that could lighten the mood and made her the center of attention, something which she did not mind. But it could be a disadvantage: especially when uncertain and reserved people regarded her with suspicion.

Have I said too much now? But Maria’s friendly and open face showed no reservation, and soon they had put on their coats and were out on the deck.

«Do we need to tell the matrons that we are going?»

«I don’t think so. It looks as if their job is first and foremost to stop unwanted individuals from coming here.»

The guards did not seem to be concerned with what the two young women were doing at all. Josephine relaxed, she had not liked the thought of being looked after all the time. Now she looked curiously at the next door.

« What is this? What does WC mean?»

Maria laughed. «Well, what do you think? WC stands for Water Closet – it is a water closet. We don’t have such things in Norway, not even at the king’s palace. Go in and see, I have already been in there. When you are finished, you pull the chain. But watch out for yourself and keep your skirts well out of the way. « Maria started to laugh a bubbling laugh once more.

When Josephine came out of the little room, she looked so amazed that Maria started to laugh, and Josephine could not resist it either. They were behaving like two giggling confirmation candidates. Josephine felt her laughter muscles hurting, and her stomach was aching too when she had finally finished laughing.

It is so wonderful to laugh again, I can’t remember the last time.

Even though they had only known each other a short time, Josephine already felt that Maria was an old friend. Something had already happened between them, a feeling of understanding and of being understood.

Suddenly her first meeting with Laura came up in her mind. Maybe one of the first memories she had? There were so many of the other, the hurtful ones, those she pushed into a black hole, those she did not want to remember. But this memory stood etched clearly: the smiling, toothless girl with the wispy, mousey grey hair who stood on the step and asked if she would ‘come out and play’, the first day they moved in to Madam Berge’s house. They had been so close, shared everything. Then they had nearly lost each other, and finally found each other again. When she had stood at the railings and waved goodbye to everyone who had showed up, it was the sight of Laura’s tearful face that had made the most impression. Josephine didn’t know if she would ever see her again. In the course of the days that had passed by since the farewell, it was this that had been the most difficult to bear; not to be able to share her thoughts with anyone.  Now she felt that she had maybe found a new soul friend.

Before they left the area, they looked into the little service room where passengers could make themselves a cup of tea or coffee. It was clean and tidy and served its purpose well. There was no need for anything bigger since all their meals were included in the price and were served in the area dining room.

«Shall we make a cup of coffee, Josephine?»

«I would like to, but not now. Later. I would so like to see around first.»

Was I too decisive? Should I have let her decide? «

Josephine felt again that uncertainty she always felt when she met new people. On the outside, she was so confident and friendly, but if only they had known.  She looked at Maria secretly, but Maria was just as happy. She had an oval face, and almond shaped, green eyes. Josephine noticed unusually high cheek bones, but otherwise harmonious features. The thick, dark brown hair was made into two plaits which lay like a crown on top of her head. The expression in her eyes was dreaming. Maria radiated something – what was it? Now she turned towards Josephine and looked at her. There was a peace inside her. As if the journey and all its dangers did not touch her.

Really, she is not so very pretty in herself, but there is something that comes from inside, that makes her so beautiful, Josephine thought.

Maria smiled again, one of her warm smiles.

«Where are you from, Josephine?»

«I am from Stavanger. And you?»

«I am from Kristiania. I grew up just down from St. Hanshaugen. My father runs a small grocer’s shop.»

It would have been natural for Josephine to follow this and tell a bit more about herself.

But what shall I say? In any case, nothing about my father.

«I … I have a brother who is a tailor. Together with him, I have had the responsibility for running a small shirt factory.»

«A shirt factory? Interesting. How many employees do you have? Who do you make shirts for?»

Josephine could see real interest in her new friend. «It’s almost too much to call it a factory compared with the huge places I have seen in Kristiania. But we keep going, and have had an increase in business each year. We have good connections, especially in the capital, and sell mostly in the East of Norway. We have gone for good quality at a manageable price.»

«And you have had responsibility for this?» said Maria, clearly impressed.

Josephine blushed. «It isn’t such a big deal as it sounds. But I like it very much. It is not so ambitious; we are like a big family. I am like a mother hen for my shirt girls.»

«Am?» Maria looked questioningly at her. «Are you just taking a quick trip over the pond then? Quickly back again?»

Maria’s question buried itself into Josephine like a burning arrow. Why had she used the present, talked about the factory as if it was still ‘hers’? Was it just a quick trip she was on – or what? Suddenly a new clarity came over her about how uncertain everything in her life was. She knew nothing about anything at all. Would she find Alvin? And if she found him, would he even want to speak to her?»

There is really no chance that he will understand or forgive. What are you trying to do? said the accusing voice.

The deck in front of her began to sway. She had to support herself on the railing. She felt Maria lay her hand on her shoulder and hold up a clean handkerchief.

She took it thankfully and dried her tears. «Thank you! You are so kind.» She tried to smile. «This is really embarrassing! You hardly know me, and here I am blubbering.»

Maria took a firmer hold on Josephine’s shoulder. «It’s fine, Josephine. You don’t need to say anymore.» She smiled encouragingly. «Was it difficult to leave?» she said understandingly.

Josephine nodded and felt even more tears coming. She had held it all in for so long. It was as if a dam was about to break, but it must not happen! What would Maria think? Would she want to have anything to do with someone who seemed to be such a burden from the first moment?

I must pull myself together.

«Can we talk about this another time? I don’t know if I am quite ready for it,» stuttered Josephine.

«Of course! We can talk about it anytime you want to.» Maria took her hand away from Josephine’s shoulder and pointed along the deck. «There are the promenade decks – shall we take a walk?»

Josephine was thankful for her tactfulness. She nodded again, forced a smile and felt better already.

They had gone about twenty meters when Maria stopped. She looked searchingly at Josephine, swallowed, and looked for a moment down at all the people on the quay. Then she looked again at Josephine before she said: «You know, I feel in my spirit that you are a Christian. Am I right?»

Josephine was so surprised that several minutes went by before she answered. « How do you know that?»

«I just know. It is right, isn’t it?»

«Yes, it is true,» said Josephine surprised. «But now I am really confused. Is it written all over me, maybe?»

Maria laughed. «In a way, it is. The Holy Spirit binds us together, we are one in Christ, and if we learn to listen, we can see it with our spiritual eyes.»

What kind of language is this? thought Josephine. A spiritual language, but not the same as mine, that I am used to from Bethania. This is a bit strange.

Aloud, Josephine said: «When you say it, I also noticed that there was something about you. But I have not managed to think much more about it.»

«I knew it» Maria beamed. «So, then we are sisters in Jesus, Josephine. Now you must allow me to introduce you to the others.»

«The others?»

She nodded eagerly. «Do you remember how the first Christians lived?»

«They … they shared everything?»

«Yes, that’s right! And they met daily to encourage each other and praise the Lord. That is exactly what our dream is. In Norway, there are poor and rich, there is sin and great need. Even in the church it is like this. It was not how Jesus wanted it to be from the beginning.»

«And you will …?»

«Live like them, Josephine. Begin completely afresh, live in faith and love.»

«So, you are travelling to America to do it? Why not at home in Norway?»

«Come,» said Maria and pointed to the foremost promenade deck. «Come and listen, then you will understand everything. If I know Levi, he is already there with the others.» She smiled. «I see you are sceptical, but that will soon change.»

Josephine had suddenly lost her desire to go to the promenade deck.

What is this about, what kind of strange sect is this? she thought, and followed rather unwillingly behind. But further forward towards the bows she could hear a voice that rose above all the others.

«There he is,» said Maria excitedly. «Come!» She took Josephine’s hand and led her forward through the throng of people.

There was nothing special about his appearance. Levi was outwardly a quite small, thin man with a thick, grey head of hair. He was dressed in a short, black woolen coat. When Josephine was near enough, she could see that it was quite worn, and his grey trousers had also seen better days. His face was quite ordinary with a narrow chin and bushy eyebrows. But one thing was absolutely not ordinary: his eyes.  As soon as he caught sight of Josephine, it was if they caught hold of her. They bored into her. Josephine felt as if he could see everything, every thought, everything that was in her was momentarily known to that man.

He stopped in the middle of a sentence. «Who is that you have with you, Maria?» he said smilingly and reached out a hand towards Josephine.

«This is Josephine, one of those I am sharing a cabin with. She is a sister.»

Josephine took the outstretched hand and curtseyed. She tried to smile but noticed how nervous she was.

«How charming! Levi Olsen here. What brings you on board, Miss Wiig?»

This man does not want a woolly answer, went through Josephine’s mind. He wants to know the truth. But I can’t just tell him everything ... here? Now ..?

«Oh, it’s a long story.» Josephine looked down. For all the world, she did not want to share the awful story with anyone. Least of all with this man who radiated goodness. But this was just the beginning. Everybody was going to ask, everybody would want to know. What could she answer?

Levi gave her plenty of time. He waited until he managed to catch her eye again. «We have lots of time on this journey. If you would like to share it, you are welcome – one to one, of course.»

Josephine smiled gratefully and nodded. She didn’t manage to say anything else.

Levi turned to the others and continued. «Now then, friends – where was I…? Yes, we were talking about what makes a person happy. Is this not what we are all seeking – happiness? If you could have one thing from God – no matter what it was, what would you wish for? Come on, friends, just come out with it …» Levi looked over his flock, about thirty in number, who all stared intensely at him, taking in every word. «No, that reminds me, you are already so far in God’s word that you know the answer. But how would the children of the world answer that?» Again, he paused.

None of his followers made any move to answer. They waited.

«By far the most of them would wish for possessions or wealth, or good health. Something like that,» Josephine suddenly said. Immediately she regretted it. Everyone stared at her.

«Bravo, Josephine, that is quite right,» said Levi and nodded approvingly. «We have ourselves walked around in Kristiania and asked people exactly that question and received many replies like that. We have hardly ever received the right answer. And do you know what that is? Again, his sharp gaze looked over the gathering before he himself gave the answer: «What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world yet forfeits his own soul? says the Word. Yes, indeed, there are many lost out there, who have not achieved happiness. There is only one way to real happiness, to God. It is called the way of humility. Thus says Psalm 25: ‘He guides the humble in what is right and teaches them his way.’ All the ways of the Lord are loving and faithful for those who keep the demands of his covenant. And to keep this covenant and the witness of the Lord Jesus in our hearts and to keep us humble, this psalm gives us a key: ‘Who, then, is the man who fears the Lord? He will instruct him in the way chosen for him. He will spend his days in prosperity, and his descendants will inherit the land. The Lord confides in those who fear him; he makes his covenant known to them.’» Levi Olsen took a pause and looked triumphantly out over his flock.

Josephine could not take her eyes off him. But now her glance went further, and she saw that still more people had gathered around them. Levi seemed to have noticed also, he smiled and nodded to his new listeners. With even greater  strength he continued: «Do you want your soul to live in bliss? Then there are only two keys to this, my friend. Humility and the fear of God. The Lord wishes to have fellowship with those that fear him! And every day we can grow nearer God and bliss with him by growing in humility and the fear of God. This is life’s deepest secret»

«Amen!»

«Alleluia!»

Enthusiastic cries came from the little flock around Levi Olsen, while the curious newcomers were more hesitant and uncertain. Some of them did not understand Norwegian either, but seemed to be attracted by the fact that something was going on.

Suddenly one of the sailors who was keeping watch over the promenade deck, came over and stood in front of Levi Olsen with both hands at his sides. «What’s going on here?» he shouted at the same time as he turned round and glared at everyone who had crowded round. «We do not allow any kind of public performance, please respect that immediately, Mister …»

«Levi Olsen,» stuttered the speaker and shrugged his shoulders. «But I can assure you …»

«I do not understand. Please leave this deck before I am forced to make you leave the ship.»

It was completely silent on the deck. Everyone followed the sequence of events closely. One in Levi’s flock stepped forward and began to explain in stuttering English.

Josephine did not hear any more.

«Aunt Josephine, are you leaving? Are you leaving me – now?» Signe reached out her small chubby hands towards her and wanted to come on to her lap.

Josephine lifted her up and hugged her tight. She looked at the sweet face, smeared with tears. Her eyes were wide-open and expressed such sorrow and panic that Josephine couldn’t continue to look into them. She closed her eyes. They both wept while she slowly rocked the little girl in her arms. She would never see her again. Never. What had she done?

Yes, what had she done? Was this really the right thing to do? She had raised Signe as her own child, been her mother for six years. And then Maren just walked into their lives and took over. Josephine felt a flash of pain – was it also … anger? ... jealousy? She did not dare to continue that thought. She liked Maren very much, didn’t she? Yes, of course. There was no more noble or better person. She had suffered so much and deserved so much the happiness that was now her portion. But what about her, then? This choice had in the end been the only possible one. She had to leave. Signe had a mother now and had absolutely no benefit through being drawn between the two strong women. Josephine tried to convince herself that it was for Signe’s benefit that she had left everything. But she knew that this was a lie. Now that she was released from her mother’s role and her commitments to Signe, there was only one thing in her head. Alvin.

An Impasse

1889

The old premises in Steinkargaden were too small and miserable. Andreas had been on the lookout for something better for a long time and had been on the brink of buying both this and that property. But every time he had changed his mind at the last moment. A couple of times it had been a very unpleasant experience. The last time he backed out, the buyer’s contract had laid in front of him, ready to be signed, while the over-eager estate agent chattered around him. The unpleasant charmer laid it on so thick that Andreas finally became more and more irritable.

«You won’t find the like of this wonderful house for your tailoring business, it has everything you need!» concluded the agent with triumph in his voice.

He should never have done that. That was the final straw for Andreas. Of course, there was no house in Stavanger that was as perfect as this useless young whippersnapper asserted! The more he thought about it, the more Andreas was certain that this was not at all the house he was looking for. He had only just managed