Stadheim land was sparse, owned by few;

So when came Oline (wife) and child,

he was hard-put to pay rent due.

Between a rock and hard place pressed,

to stay on there meant more distress.

Would things turn and give relief?

Or just get worse, and mock Belief?

They went about their daily chores,

while in their minds these questions burned.

No wonder cream ran thin and sour,

so hard to set up butter when Oline churned!

It's easier for a man out in the rough;

strong men can get stronger with the ax and plow.

But Sjur was hired shepherd too, tending flocks;

he couldn't spend all his time teasing barley from Stadheim rocks!

Sjur and Oline lost Ole their first-born;

they laid him in a grave forlorn.

They had no money for a decent grave stone,

so today his resting place is unknown.

Sjur likely carved a small wooden cross.

It wouldn't last long, it's true,

but still it spoke of Jesus Christ--that's the best this grieving father could do.

and clip short their wings;

they won't launch out to brave the sky,

they set in places known and snug;

as for their reason, it's fear, that's why.

Not so Stadheimers! They trusted child-like in Providence;

Rationalist religion for them made absolutely no sense.

Knud, Sjur's brother and Mother Britta's eldest, launched first;

he refused to spend his life in a place that seemed accursed.

The brothers talked and planned all winter long,

how best to chart a course ahead out of Sogn.

They must have shared faith to start over anew here--

it would take more than Norse grit to venture so far to pioneer.

Some emigrants relied on themselves and had little faith in God,

but not so Olsons or Stadheims

sprung from Vik-i-Sogn's thin, rocky sod.