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About a month after the "Gripsholm" sailed, the second exchange ship arrived, and I met my husband casually on the street. I knew the ship was in, but did not know he had disembarked. No one was allowed on the wharf. For months I had done all in my power to get to him with the children, and there he was as though he had never been away, and I told him everything and he did not know a word I said, and he must have told me everything, but half the time I only heard his voice. I only knew that he was there and talking to me. Did it matter what he said? Later the other three children joined us on the next exchange ship. Now he has gone to sea again and I am writing this for him. The morning he went away, I could not let him go until I had read my little book. It said for that day: "The Master is come and calleth for thee." Could I withhold anything and profess to love Him? So he must go, not grudgingly, but triumphantly-and thus we shall meet again.
The smoke ascends A spiral stair,
The power of faith, Uplift of prayer. Till dawn appears And dark night clears The victim, victor, If he trod Death's vale, Towards God.
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