"No, I can't sleep. I am thinking of our home."
"And so am I," said the boy, "come let us pack our clothes and flee. There seems to be a voice in my heart that says, 'Go home, go home,' it is the voice of God I know, so we are doing nothing wrong."
"Yes, let us go," said the sister. And quietly they went away.
It was a lovely night, the moon shone brightly and lit up the paths. "But dear brother, I am afraid we never shall find our home," said the little girl after they had walked a while.
The brother answered, "Let us always go toward the northwest, and we shall surely reach Finland, and when we are there, the birch and the star shall be our sign. If we see the star shining through the leaves of the birch, we shall know that we are at home."
"But don't you think wild beasts may devour us or robbers carry us away?" cried she.
"Remember, sister dear, the hymn which our mother taught us long ago—'Though you suffer in a foreign land, God will lead you by the hand.'"
"Yes," said the little girl, "God will send his angels to protect us in the foreign land."
And they went bravely on. The boy cut a stout stick from a young oak tree in order to protect his sister and himself, but no evil befell them.
One day they came to a cross road where they did not know which way to go. Then they saw two little birds that were singing in a tree by the road on the left-hand side. "Come," said the brother, "this road is the right one. I know it from the song of the birds. Perhaps these little birds are sent by God to help us along."