Anna Hansdatter: Hunger In the Dale

The beggar-monk Isaak remained at Skurdal for a week after the burial. His kind words, gentle ways, and humility were of great comfort to all of the bereaved. He tried especially hard to soften the heart of the master toward his servants.

“Peder Skurdal,” said the monk, on the last day of the week, “I know you to be a man of kindness and generosity. I am a mere beggar, but when I come to you, you set for me a splendid table, strengthen me for the rigors of my journey, and gift me with important items for my welfare.”

“Oh, please, Brother Isaak, I only gave you two little sheepskins.”

“But I asked for only one. With the two of them, I can cover my whole body by day, and keep warm with one under and one over me at night. I am doubly blessed by your generosity.”

“It is really so very little.”

“But very much for one who has done so little for you in return. I challenge you now to be such a boon to those more deserving than I, who have served you faithfully, year-in and year-out.”

“You speak of the men who sent my son to his death?”

“You said so. But by the laws of God and man, they had no power to prevent it. More importantly, you yourself can never heal until you forgive them.”

Tears came to Skurdal’s eyes; his face turned red. “Never,” he murmured. “I would rather kill them.”

“If you kill them, you sentence yourself to carry this wound that now ravishes you, until it eats you from the inside out. You will be as an empty shell until your own death. If you forgive them, in time you will be whole.”

“I already promised I would not kill them, nor beat them, nor even banish them. Forgive them, I cannot.”

“You must. It can be done in small steps. First, allow the wedding of the driver and his betrothed, when mourning time is over.”

“My mourning will never end.”

“But the established time will end before Christmas.”

Skurdal thought for a long time. “All right, I will combine our Christmas feast with a modest wedding. Even so, I cannot forgive them.”

“Forgive with your deeds, Peder,” said the old monk. “Your heart will follow, if you permit it. Now it is time for me to go. I must hurry to reach the pass at Dovrefjell before the heavy snows arrive. ”

“You will cross the mountains on bare feet?”

“I will make shoes of birch bark, as our forefathers did. You are most kind to gift me the sheepskins. The Lord will give me whatever more comfort I need.”

“Will you not take more food? You only have two loaves of bread and a bit of cheese.”

“There is enough for many days. If I carried more, it would slow my progress. Thank you kindly; you have sacrificed much for my humble journey. God be with you, my brother.”

“And with you, Brother Isaak,” said Peder, embracing him.

(Continued)