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mind being married to Michel. He seemed very smart, and marrying Michel made Papa
happy. She just didn‘t like the ―consummation.‖ She had only had her first blood come
out six months ago, and she was just not that interested in having a naked man on top of
her. She did not understand why people were supposed to enjoy intercourse at all. It hurt
and Michel‘s underarms smelled and his beard was scratchy and it was just… well, not
enjoyable. But Mother said girls must marry when they are twelve and can bear
children, and sex was the only way to have children, so that was that. Henriette did look
forward to having her own child, however. ―How wonderful it will be to carry a child
inside me,‖ she thought, ―And then to have a tiny face smiling back at me, just like one of
Jesus‘ angels? What joy!‖ Her mother had told her that when God put a child inside her,
the bleeding between her legs would stop. She wondered about that, because her blood
had not come two weeks ago. Could she be pregnant?
She put such thoughts out of her mind and stared with wonder at the billowing
clouds. She mentally drew a line between several of the clouds, picturing herself
constructing a giant house of cotton fluff, where she would entertain pretty lady giants
over for tea and make nice comments about the weather down below and serve almond
cakes. She closed her eyes and faded off, almost asleep….
The vision fiercely gripped her, making her eyes pop out in fear. Even though her
eyes remained open, it was as if she was asleep. If this was a dream, it was the most
realistic dream she had ever experienced. She seemed to be seeing into another time—
when, she did not know. There were two figures in the room. One paced back and forth
on the floor, clearly agitated. The room was round, and the walls were cream-colored,
with grand drapes the color of mustard. The floor was a deep blue color. In the middle
of the floor was a crest of an eagle. The eagle was carrying a leaf in one claw and arrows
in the other. Around the eagle were letters in a language which was not French, and
which Henriette did not understand. As the scene unfolded over the next several hours,
Henriette saw many things, very horrible things, and shook until her body turned cold.
When she woke up, she looked around her and noticed that it was night! How long
had she been dreaming? The cool breeze felt good, because she was covered in sweat.
Her arms and legs and face felt badly sunburned. She was exhausted. She felt like
staying here under the stars and resting until morning, but she knew her mother, Papa and
Michel would be worried about her. Henriette sat up and picked up her basket, but as she
did so, she noticed her Bible was missing. She looked over to the blanket and saw her
Bible was on the ground in the grass, opened. Next to the Bible in the grass was her
white feather, blackened at the bottom, and an empty bottle of India ink. She looked at
her hands and they were covered in ink, as was much of her white dress! That would be
difficult to get out! Henriette looked at her Bible. There was handwriting-her
handwriting!--all over many of the Bible‘s pages. The Bible appeared to contain verses
of some kind of poetry. For the life of her, she could not remember writing any of this.
Henriette looked around her, wondering for a moment if someone was playing a trick on
her and writing the verses in her hand to trick her. However, that was plainly not the
case. No one knew she was even here, and there was not a soul around anywhere. She
read the verses, and they appeared in some places to reference what she had just dreamed.
But how could she have written all this and have no memory of it at all? The young girl
worried she might be going crazy. She remembered hearing stories her Mother told her
about Joan of Arc, and how she at first believed she was crazy when she heard the Lord
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