Johan Falkberget

"It was as if he sat in cross currents from many eternities — some with a grey cold light over them, others completely in darkness. Was it the agony of Gethsemane? The disintegration of his body was in full swing. He remained sitting there, remembering something he had experienced one night last winter. It seemed to him that the great silence, which only comes when a human being has drawn his last breath, enveloped him. And suddenly Kathryn was standing beside his bed. She took his hand in hers and smiled sadly. "Do you wish, Husband, that I shall pray for you, that you may still live?" she asked. "Here, from where I now am, it is not such a long way to God as from the place where you are." Her voice was without reproach, and all fear and suffering had left her face. "Oh, my dear," he had said. "Do not intervene in the wise counsels of God. Don't you hate me, Kathryn?" She smiled again. "There is no hate here. No, Husband, I love you more dearly now than when I lived — but it is with another love, a love purified of all self-love." But he couldn't quite decide whether this was a dream or a vision. Now, when his earthly happiness was in ruins, his spirit became more and more liberated. The eyes of his soul had the land of Canaan in sight. He had come closer now. He noticed it in so many things."

"Lisbeth was his — she was his . . . the words became a beautiful and tender hymn glorifying a love which triumphed over all worldly vicissitudes. The hymn resounded over all the plains, over the ice and snows. In the name of Christ Jesus, he raised the chalice to Bjorn's mouth. In the name of Christ Jesus!"

"Among those who succeeded in giving monumental expression to the life of humble folk one of the foremost was Johan Falkberget."