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breathing had stopped, she wrapped it in the lined shawl on

which she had given birth, bundled it tight, and then sank

her unbaptized daughter in a small pond south of


Old Tóvó stroked his great grandson’s hand. He could tell

him one thing: If the men on the island decided to drain

that pond someday, they would find a mass grave of

newborns swaddled in lined shawls. Of course, Pisan would

answer for her action on the Last Day. But so would the

island’s lechers. And the Devil give them what they


In Saga Hestoyar, Pastor Viderø writes:

Plenty of tears have

been shed here on Hestoy, but God transforms them to the

most beautiful rainbow.

Pisan was never able to see the minister’s rainbow. Or

rather, one might say that, with a freshly knitted shawl, her

feet encased in leather shoes and clogs, and with a bundle

under her arm, she fled the rainbow over the fjord.

For many years she earned a living on different farms on



urstreymoy. After she moved to a garret in the vicinity

of Sjarpholi


in Tórshavn, she set fish out to dry on

Rundingi and, among other things, helped out in houses

where women were giving birth.