Kristina stared at Ulrika, more confused than before: Ulrika had declined to become a storekeeper’s wife, she had refused the splendor of Mr. Abbott’s store, she had rejected the kind man who had helped carry her burdens homeward!
“Are you serious?”
“I’ve never been more serious.”
“But you’re packing! Are you still moving away from Danjel?”
“Yes. I’m moving away. To Stillwater. A miracle has happened to me.” She spoke the last sentence with great emphasis.
Something new lit up Ulrika’s features, a light shone in her eyes, an unusual gravity was in her voice: “Listen to me, Kristina. You’re the first to know: I’m going to be baptized. I’m going to be baptized by a Baptist.”
“Oh. . now I understand. You’ve changed your religion.”
“No! I haven’t changed. I’ve been on the right road. But only now have I come close to God. And for this I can thank Pastor Jackson.”
“Ah. . it’s he who has made you a Baptist?”
“Yes. My husband-to-be will baptize me.”
“What?”
“I’m marrying Pastor Jackson in Stillwater.”
And Ulrika turned again to the table where her new-washed linen shift still lay spread.
Kristina was lost in astonishment. But not for long. Her surprise lessened as she thought the news over. She ought to have guessed from the very beginning, she should have foreseen, after all Ulrika’s talk of Pastor Jackson and her visits with him, after all the praise Ulrika had lavished on the minister.
“Are you surprised?”
“No!” Kristina answered. “This is the best thing that could happen to you! A likelier man couldn’t be found. With Pastor Jackson, I don’t even need to wish you well!”
Yes, that was how things were; God had come between Ulrika and Mr. Abbott. And He had chosen another husband for her.
Ulrika was to be married in the Baptist Church in Stillwater this spring. But before she married Pastor Jackson she would be baptized at the great baptism which the church performed in the St. Croix River every spring.
“It’s a God’s miracle!” said the Glad One. “You don’t even understand it, Kristina.”
Her hand lightly touched the white shift on the table, slowly, tenderly, like a caress. Kristina had guessed right — it was her bridal shift.
Ulrika went on: Three years ago she had been converted by Danjel, but ever since that time she had felt something missing. She had shed her old body, but she had never felt quite at home in the new one. She had known something was missing from her rebirth in Christ. Since meeting Jackson she had spoken many times to Danjel about the Baptists and had asked him if a new baptism might give new comfort to her soul. Danjel no longer believed God had entrusted him with the care of any soul except his own. Since he had gone astray in self-righteousness, he felt he could lead no one else along the right road. And he had told her she had her own free will in religious matters. She knew best what God asked of her, he would not rebuke her if she turned Baptist and enjoyed a new christening.
Now Ulrika felt a rechristening was just what she needed. Only the Baptists were entirely reborn into this world. To rid herself completely of the old flesh-body, she must again go through baptism, which should never be undertaken until a person was full grown in mind and body. Now she felt old enough, her mind wasn’t likely to grow any more, she was as wise as a woman in her position and of her age would ever be; the time had arrived for her rechristening into the Baptist faith. And the crown of the miracle was the fact that her husband-to-be would baptize her with his own hands.
The baptism would take place as soon as the river water grew warmer. Many other persons would be immersed at the same time as she. All would be fully dressed, but baptism for a rebirth required the whole body to be under water. They were to wade into the river until the water stood above their shoulders. Pastor Jackson would hold on to her neck and push down her head, while he read the baptismal prayer. It would take only a few moments with the head under water to make it binding, he had told her. Then the newly baptized must hurry home and put on dry clothes and drink warm milk or steaming coffee so as not to catch cold. But later in the spring the St. Croix River would be warmer, so there would be less risk of getting sick.
“. . but I can’t explain it! I can’t tell you any more! Oh, Kristina, I am chosen. I am.”
And as Ulrika was talking in great exhilaration she suddenly stopped short — she rested her elbows against the table and broke out in loud weeping.
She slumped down onto a chair as if her legs had given way under her, she began to cry so violently that her whole body shook, she put her hands to her face, the tears dripped between her fingers and fell onto the shift on the table.
“Ulrika, my dear!” Kristina had never seen Ulrika of Västergöhl cry, no one had ever seen her shed a tear. No one had imagined she could weep, she was such a strong, fearless woman. Kristina realized that something profound had happened to her. “Ulrika! You never weep!”
Copiously Ulrika’s tears ran while from trembling lips she stammered forth: She was not sad, she was happy. Her tears were tears of joy. She never cried when she was sad, only when she was happy. That was why she had never wept before, she had never been happy, never in all her life until now. What had there been for her to be happy over? Nothing — ever! Until now!
The Glad One wept. She soaked her wedding linen in tears.
Kristina sat silent and looked at her. Ulrika continued to sob. Long had she carried her tears, long had she saved them, now the moment had come when she spent her savings. It was as though all the tears she had kept back through all the years were now gathered in force, breaking through in one great torrent — as though she wished at one single time to weep tears for all the happiness which had been denied her throughout life.
At length she became aware of her tears dripping onto the white garment; then she put her apron to her eyes and wept into her apron. Her blooming cheeks were washed in her flood of tears, she wiped them away with the apron.
Kristina sat silent; one who weeps for joy needs no comfort. She was glad for Ulrika’s sake, she would have liked to weep also, to show that she shared her happiness.
When the Glad One’s tears at last began to give out and her tongue regained its former use, she told Kristina why she began to weep after these many years: It was because of God’s all-forgiving love which she had experienced through her husband-to-be — through Henry. When he had asked her to be his wife — and he had spoken very slowly and clearly so that she would understand the English words — she had at once recognized who he was: he was the mate God had chosen and saved for her, and who had long been waiting for her here in North America. Then she had felt that she too must show him who she was — God demanded this of her, forced her to it. She had told him she was a great sinner, that she had lived in sin and shame in her homeland, that she had felt at home in her sin-body and enjoyed its pleasures. She was a sister of the Bible harlot who had been brought to Jesus for judgment. She had met a Lord’s Apostle who had repeated Christ’s words: Go, and sin no more! And for three years she had done repentance, for three years she had not let a single man near her.
Henry had told her that God had already informed him she had been a great sinner. But one forgiven by God had nothing to fear from mortals. Who was he to judge her? He himself was a great sinner, forgiven by God. They were alike, she and he. The old life was past, blotted out through the rebirth. And if some part of her old sin-body still clung to her, she would be cleansed in the baptism he would give her later in spring when the river water was a little warmer.