Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Margarita Celsing
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Älfdal forests, Gösta. I looked little better than a
beggar-woman by that time. They told me when
I arrived there that my mother was in the dairy. I
made my way there and stood a long time silently
at the door. All round the room there were long
shelves on which stood shining copper pans filled
with milk, and my mother, who was over ninety
years old, lifted down pan after pan and skimmed
it. She was strong enough, yet I noticed that it told
upon her to straighten herself sufficiently to reach
the pans. I did not know if she had noticed me, till
after a time she spöke in an extraordinary shrill
voice.
“‘What I desired has then happened,’ she said.
I wanted to speak and ask her forgiveness, but it
was quite useless. She did not hear a word, she was
stone deaf. After a time she spoke again.
“‘You can come and help me,’ she said.
“Then I went forward and helped her to skim the
milk. I took down the pans in their right order and
put them into their places and took off the right
depth of cream, and she was pleased. She had never
trusted any of the servants to skim the milk, but
I knew of old how she liked to have it done.
“‘Now you can take this work upon yourself,’
she said. And by that I knew she had forgiven me.
“After that it seemed as if she lost the power of
working any longer. She sat quietly in her armchair
and slept nearly all the day, and she died a fortnight
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