"The Lord alone did lead him."--_Deut. 32:12_.
One beautiful summer evening, Henrik Bogstad was baptized in the waters
of the Christiania fjord. After that, the truths of the gospel appeared
clearer than ever, and still whisperings of the Spirit, to which he now
had legal right, testified to his spirit that he was in the way of
salvation, narrow and straight perhaps, but glowing with a light that
comforted and cheered.
He told none of his family or friends of his baptism. They had already
rejected him as far as they could, and they asked him no questions. His
sister would hardly speak to him, and Marie cut him openly. His many
uncles, aunts, and cousins were cold and unfeeling. His mother, though
feeble, and sinking slowly, was the only one of his family that he could
talk to. She seemed to understand and believe him. He felt that in
spirit they were one, and he received great comfort from the thought.
About Midsummer the mother died. Then Henrik spent most of his time at
Nordal. There was peace in the solitude of the pine-clad hills, there
was comfort in the waving fields of grain and the clear-flowing streams.
The lake spread out to his view from his window, and he gazed at its
beauty, sometimes his mind wandering from the Dahl home on the island
westward to unknown America. And America had a new meaning for him now.
Before, it had been simply a new wonder-land, with untold possibilities
in a material way; but added to this there was now the fact that in
America the Latter-day Zion was to be built; there the people of God
were gathering, were building temples, preparatory to the glorious
coming of the Lord.
Henrik soon caught the spirit of gathering, but he quenched it as much
as possible. His brethren in the gospel advised him to remain where he
was and do his full duty to his sister and their interests. This he
tried to do. He would not quarrel with Selma, but was exceedingly
patient and considerate. He would "talk religion" with any of his
friends who expressed a desire to do so, but he would not contend.
Henrik mingled more freely with his tenants at Nordal, and they soon
became aware of a change in him. He gave them good treatment. Sometimes,
there were Sunday services in the large parlor of the Bogstad residence,
and the people were invited to attend. They turned out, it must be
admitted, more because of Hr. Bogstad's invitation than because of any
enthusiasm on their part.
Henrik, during this period of comparative loneliness, read much. He
always carried a book in his pocket when out among the hills and fields,
and many a moss-covered stone became his reading table. He had procured
a number of English books which he delighted in, for they brought to him
much that had not yet been printed in his own language.
After the harvesting was over that summer, Henrik directed his attention
to another line of work, pointed out to him by the New Light. He
gathered the genealogy of his forefathers. His was a large family, and
when he searched the old church records at Nordal, at Christiania, and
at a number of other places he found that the family was an old and
prominent one, reaching back to the ancient Norsemen. He derived a
peculiar satisfaction in this work, and he extended his researches until
he had a large list of names on his mother's side as well as on his
father's. "Among these there are many noble and true," thought Henrik.
"Many will receive the gospel in the spirit world, and all will have the
opportunity. I shall have the necessary earthly work done for them. If
my labors for the living will not avail, my dead ancestors shall have
their chance. Who knows but even now the gospel is being preached to
them, and many of them are looking eagerly for someone to do their work
for them." The thought filled him with enthusiasm.
The following spring Selma married, which left Henrik quite alone. He
met Marie at the wedding festivities. She was silent and quiet. He made
no strong efforts to win her back to him, so they drifted apart again.
Then Henrik arranged his affairs so that he could remain away for some
months. He said he was going to America to visit his uncles in
Minnesota,--and yes, very likely he would go farther west. His friends
shook their heads misgivingly, but he only smiled at their fears.
Henrik sailed from Christiania in company with a party of his
fellow-believers, and in due uneventful time, landed in the New World.
He found America a wonderfully big and interesting country. He went
directly westward first, crossing the great plains and rugged mountains
to the valleys beyond. Here he found and visited many of his former
friends. He lived with the Latter-day Saints in their homes, and learned
to know their true character and worth.
Then he saw the temples in which the Saints were doing a saving work
both for the living and the dead. While in conversation with some of the
temple workers, he told them of what he had in the way of genealogy,
which they commended highly, telling him that he had an opportunity to
do much good for his family.
"I am glad to hear you say that," replied he, "for you know, this work
for the dead was what first impressed me in the gospel. It came to me
naturally, it seems, for I had no trouble in accepting it."
Henrik learned much regarding the manner of procedure in this temple
work. He could do the work for the male members of his family, but a
woman must officiate for the female members. This was the true order,
he found.
"Your sister or your wife or any other near relative would be the person
to help you in this," said his informant.
Henrik shook his head. "I am the only member of the family that has
received the gospel," he replied.
"Then, of course, any other sister in the faith will do; but the
blessings for doing this work belongs to the nearest kin, if they will
receive it. Have you no relatives in America?"
"Yes; a lot of them are up in Minnesota, but none that I know are
Latter-day Saints--but I'll go and find out," he added as an
afterthought.
And that is what Henrik did. Within a month he was on his way. He found
his Uncle Ole living not far from St. Paul. He was a prosperous farmer
with a family of grown-up sons and daughters who were pleased to see
their kinsman from the homeland. All the news from all the family had to
be told from both sides. Henrik was shown the big farm with its
up-to-date American machinery and methods. He was driven behind blooded
horses to the city and there introduced to many people. They knew that
Henrik was a person of some importance back in Norway, and they wanted
to show him that they also were "somebody." That seemed to be the
principle upon which they lived. The father and mother still belonged to
the Lutheran church. The three daughters had joined a Methodist
congregation because their "set" was there. The two boys attended no
church.
Henrik was disappointed. He saw plainly that here was no help for him.
All these were entrapped by the world. At first, Henrik said nothing
about his own religious faith, but after a time he spoke of the subject
to one of his girl cousins. She was not the least interested. He tried
another with the same result. Then, one day at the table, he told them
all plainly what he believed and what he was called. They were merely
surprised. "That's all right," said his cousin Jack who voiced the
universal opinion, "we live in a free country, you know, where one's
religion isn't called into question."
Henrik's other uncle lived in the city. He was a mechanic, having worked
for years in the railroad shops. Some months previous he had been
discharged, and since then he had operated a small "tinker" shop of his
own. Uncle Jens lived in a small rented house. Uncle Ole's visits to his
brother were far between. "Brother Jens is shiftless," Uncle Ole said.
Henrik was, however, made welcome in the humble home, and he soon found
the family a most interesting one. His uncle was a religious man,
having, as he put it, "got religion" some years ago at a Baptist
revival. He had joined that church and was an active member in it. The
wife and some of the children were devout believers. They indulged in
long family prayers and much scriptural reading. This branch of the
Bogstad family called the wealthy farmer and his children a "godless
lot."
Uncle Jens' oldest daughter, one about Henrik's own age, did not live
at home, therefore he did not see her. He was getting well acquainted
with the others, but Rachel he did not know.
"I must meet Rachel, too," he said one day to his uncle. "Where can I
find her?"
"She works in a down-town department store; at night she stays with some
friends of hers. The fact is that Rachel is peculiar. She is not one
with us. She has been led astray--"
"Oh!" cried Henrik.
"She is not a bad girl--no, no; but she has been led away into a false
religion, and as she will talk and argue with us all, I thought it best
that she stay away from our home until she comes to her senses; but--"
"What is this religion that has caused her to err so badly?"
"Why, she calls herself a Latter-day Saint."
"What!"
"Yes; I've tried to reason with the girl, but it's been no use."
"I want to see her--now, today," said Henrik. "Give me her address."
"Shall I go with you?"
"No, I can find her,--you need not bother."
Henrik obtained the proper directions, and set out immediately. Was
there then one other of his family that had received the gospel--one
that could help him? He boarded a car, getting off at the store. Going
to the department in which she worked, he asked the floor-walker where
he could find Miss Bogstad. Then he saw her behind a counter, resting
for a moment, unoccupied. Though she was an American, Henrik could see
the Norwegian traits in his fair cousin. She was of the dark type, with
round, rosy lips and cheeks, and heavy, brown hair.
"I am your cousin Henrik from Norway," he said as he shook her hand.
Her smile burst into a soft, merry laugh as she greeted him. "I am glad
to see you," she said. "I heard you were here, but thought perhaps I
might not get to meet you."
He held her hand a long time, as he looked into the pretty, sweet face.
Had he been an American, he would, no doubt, have kissed her then and
there; but being a Norwegian, he only looked his wonder and pleasure.
They could not talk much because customers had to be served; but Henrik
lingered until closing time, saying he would walk home with her that
they might talk. She expressed her pleasure at the proposition; and
promptly at the closing gong, she donned her wraps and joined him. The
day was warm, and he suggested a walk around by the park, where they
might sit down on a bench under the trees.
It was a difficult matter for seriously minded Uncle Jens and his family
to laugh, and even a smile was seldom seen on their faces; but here was
one who seemed bubbling over with merriment--one whose countenance shone
as if from an inner light of happiness.
"Rachel," said Henrik, "your father has told me about you."
"Yes," she replied with sobering face, "they think I am a very bad
girl,--but--"
"Look here cousin, don't make any apologies. I know, and understand."
He asked her some questions about herself, all of which she answered
frankly. Then he told her about himself, which she first met with an
astonished stare. He narrated his experiences in Norway, of his trip
westward, and the real purpose of his coming to Minnesota. She heard his
story with alternating smiles and tears, as it touched her heart. They
sat thus for a long time, oblivious to the singing birds above, of the
curious passers-by, or the fast falling night. They walked home in the
lighted streets, and it was late when he bade her goodnight at the gate.
The next day Henrik had a talk with Uncle Jens which ended in the
uncle's closing with a bang the open Bible on the table out of which
they had been reading, and then in uncontrolled rage ordering his nephew
out of the house. Henrik tried to make peace with his uncle, but it
proved useless, so he took his hat and left.
Henrik met Rachel again that evening, and again they sat on the bench
under the trees. Once again they became lost to all outward disturbances
in the deep concerns which brooded in their hearts and found utterance
in their speech.
"I shall remain here a few days more," said he in conclusion, "because I
want to get better acquainted with you; and then we must talk over our
plans further. Then I shall go back to Norway. In a few months I shall
come back, and we two shall go westward where the Temples are, and there
begin the work that is ours--the work that the Lord has called us to do.
What do you say to that?"
"Thank you," she replied simply, and with her usual smile; "I shall be
ready."