About Amish

Snapshots - 1

2012-01-29T09:59:00.000-08:00

Today I'm starting a new series on my blog. I am going to post photos of different times in my life and tell the story of what occasioned them or what was going on at that time in my life. Today I start with a photo of my Kindergarten class in public school. I was the only Amish child in my class.

Click on photo to enlarge: Linda is the one right behind the sign; I'm on the far right, front row

I will never forget my first day of school.

The first bit of sun shone through the leaves of the oak tree outside my window as I awoke. I got up quickly when I remembered what day it was. I put on my brand new blue dress, my black stockings and shoes, and my new black organdy kopp. Then I went downstairs for breakfast. I was so excited, that I could only eat one little pancake.

“Can I go out and wait for the bus now?” I asked.

“The bus won’t be coming for another half hour,” Mem said. “Why don’t you play with Susie until it’s time to go out?”

I stacked the wooden blocks and let Susie knock them down. They rumbled on the pine floor.

Mem moved around the kitchen. I heard her get out the bread bowl. I looked up to see her put it onto the wooden board. “Mem, are you going to bake bread without me?” I asked.

“Yes, I am. Why? Don’t you want me too?” Mem asked.

“No, I want to help when I come home from school,” I said.

“Okay, I’ll remember that for next time. I’ll do it this morning since I’ve already started, then next time I’ll wait for you.”

Lizzie said, “I’m going out to wait for the bus.”

“Me too!” I said. I got up so fast, that I startled Susie.

While Joe, Lizzie, Susan, Brian, and I waited for the bus, Rae Sykora came out with her camera and took a picture of us all standing in a row. I hoped Mem wasn’t looking out the window at the time. She never seemed to be looking when Rae took pictures of us. I wondered if Mem secretly wanted Rae to take pictures and if it was one of the Amish rules Mem didn’t agree with. She didn’t say it, but I could sometimes tell by the way she acted that there were Amish rules she didn’t agree with.

From left to right: Susan, Lizzie, Brian, Joe, and me

We heard the bus coming, and then it turned down our road. I jumped up and down in my excitement.

I stretched my legs to follow Lizzie up the tall steps onto the bus. The bus steps didn’t look so big from the kitchen window. Lizzie chose an empty seat. Then, with a roar, the bus started up Hale Road. I looked at the house and saw Mem holding Baby and waving from the kitchen window. I waved back. I had a fluttering butterfly feeling in my stomach. But when we turned the corner onto Butternut Road and I couldn't see home anymore, I got scared. I tried not to cry, but when the tears came anyway, I wiped them with the back of my hand. I was glad Lizzie didn't notice. She was looking out the window, to see who was getting on the bus.

I saw mostly English children getting on the bus. At one house where the bus stopped, two girls got on. One was tall and thin, the other was shorter, with dark hair. I watched for a girl in plain Amish clothes. One Amish girl and her brother got on. The girl sat in the seat across the aisle. Lizzie talked to her in Amish. Her name was Linda. She and Lizzie were both starting first grade.

When the bus stopped in front of the school, children poured out. They were all around us, bumping, shouting, and walking. I clung to Lizzie's hand. We walked slowly into the school, down the long green hallway, and up the gray cement stairs. Lizzie stopped in front of a room. An English woman bent down and said something to me in English. She looked kind, but I didn’t want to understand her. I could usually figure out what people were saying in English by then, but I had to concentrate on what they said and watch their expressions. All I could think of was Mem at home and I wanted so much to be there, kneading bread with her in the warm kitchen. I put my arm up over my face and cried.

Lizzie talked to the teacher, then said to me, “Du musht ana hucka” (you have to sit down). She showed me a desk in the second row with my name taped in the top corner. I sat down and looked around. I saw none of the other children were Amish. I whispered to Lizzie, “I want you to stay with me.”

Lizzie said, “I will be right next door in the first grade room,” and left.

I looked around. The short, dark-haired girl I saw getting on the bus with her tall sister sat in front of me.

The desks were lined up in rows, facing the teacher’s desk in the front of the room. Behind the teacher’s desk was the blackboard and above that were the letters of the alphabet in black letters on green paper. The room smelled of crayons and paste.

I watched what the other children did when the teacher said things I didn’t understand. When the children lined up halfway through the morning, I followed them out of the room, down the stairs, and out the back door to the playground.

There were teeter-totters, swings, a big slide, and a merry-go-round. Three girls played hopscotch and others were jumping rope. I wished I knew how to ask if I could play too. I finally took a ride on the merry-go-round that made me dizzy.

After snack and rest time, the teacher guided us to the bus. I wished Lizzie were there. I worried that the bus driver didn’t know where I lived, but to my relief the bus turned down Hale Road, and stopped at the end of the lane. I got off the bus and ran into the house. When I opened the kitchen door, Mem looked up from slicing warm bread, as its smell filled the kitchen. “How was your first day of school?” she asked.

“The playground has so many things to do! I’m the only Amish girl in my class, and the teacher is really nice and...” I stopped to catch my breath.

“Sounds like you had fun,” Mem said.

“Yes, I did!”

When Lizzie came home from school, she told Mem I had cried.

“You did?” Mem said. “You didn’t tell me. Were you scared?”

“Yes, at first,” I said.

The next morning I cried again. I had liked playing school with Susan Sykora in their barn with the dirt floor, my bare feet dangling from the bench of their picnic table. Susan was a good teacher, but I could run home and see Mem anytime I wanted. I thought about Mem doing her morning work, and I wanted to be there where it felt familiar. I didn’t listen to Mrs. Maloney talking to me in a kind voice. She tried guiding me to my desk, but I didn’t move.

Mrs. Maloney went next door and got Lizzie who said, “Du musht ana hucka.” I looked at her through my tears as she walked quickly back to her classroom. I stopped crying and sat at my desk.

When I was coloring the robin on the sheet the teacher handed out, I was sure I wouldn’t cry the next day.

But I did. I pretended not to understand when Mrs. Maloney said, “You need to sit at your desk.” I wanted her to get Lizzie. Instead, Mrs. Maloney guided me to my desk. I put my head down and cried.

I didn’t know anyone was standing next to my desk until I heard her say, “Hi.” I stopped crying and listened. Then I lifted my head and wiped at my tears with the back of my hands. The girl from my bus with the dark hair was standing there. She had on a yellow dress with pink flowers on it and a bow tied in the back. She had dark hair and brown eyes, like my own. “Hi,” she said again.

“Hi,” I said.

“What's your name?”

I started to say Lomie, and then I stopped myself. “Saloma,” I said.

“Mine's Linda. Want to see my desk?” She pointed to her desk in the next row.

I nodded and got up from my desk. Linda was showing me her pencil case when the bell rang and we had to take our seats.

Interview and Book Giveaway

2012-01-26T09:02:00.000-08:00

Erik Wesner from Amish America has kindly interviewed me on his blog, along with a drawing for a giveaway today. So click on over to read the interview and the comments.

A huge thank you to Erik. I'm enjoying reading and responding to the comments.

Life in Fast Forward

2012-01-23T15:49:00.000-08:00

You know what it's like when it feels like someone has just set your whole life into fast forward? You feel like you want there to be 25 hours in each day, so that you can get caught up? You feel tired and sleep-deprived, and therefore not as productive as you want to be?

If you don't know what this is like, I'll be happy to describe it in more detail... when my life slows down.

If you do know what this is like, what are some of your coping skills? How do you carve out time for your own well-being? What do you do to rejuvenate? And when you have to let go of something (because you simply cannot do it all), what do you let go of?

I would love to know how you deal with life when you find you have too much to do.

For now I'll share a photo of a serene moment in my life. This was taken on a summer afternoon, when David and I awoke from a nap in a B&B in Trub, Switzerland. We heard bells as we awoke, and I asked David what he thought those were. We got up and opened the window, and there were sheep grazing outside. They were wearing little bells around their necks.

Trub, Switzerland

Celebrations

2012-01-15T18:18:00.000-08:00

One joy scatters a hundred griefs. ~ Chinese Proverb

The message in church this morning was one about the River of Life and how we need to get into the middle of the river, rather than clinging to the shore, if we are to live life to its fullest. The pastor also invited us to celebrate life, even in the face of our toils and struggles.

I wholeheartedly agree with this message. Of course when life's struggles become overwhelming, it is not always easy to find something to be grateful for or to celebrate. However, even when we are downtrodden, the sun still rises in the morning and sets in the evening, the birds still sing, there is still beauty in nature. We only need to be open to perceiving these gifts from God.

One evening last week, I was cutting up veggies for dinner, and I looked out my west window. The sunset was startlingly beautiful. And it changed by the minute, getting deeper and more beautiful. Finally, I just had to go and grab the camera and take pictures.

David and I were celebrating that 34 years ago today, we had our first date. We just recently wrote about this for our book. I will give a little excerpt of my account of that date and another of David's recollection. I had changed my name to Linda when I left the Amish.

The wonton soup was served. I was glad for the interruption because I didn’t really want to think about what was happening at home. There were times when homesickness snuck out of the shadows and took me by surprise. I wondered if the closing hymn was being sung in our church district. I decided to change the subject.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” I asked.

“Yes, two brothers and two sisters.”

“Where do you fit in?”

“I’m smack dab in the middle — I’m third, with an older sister and an older brother and I also have a younger brother and a younger sister.”

“I’m third in line also, with an older brother and an older sister.”

“Do you follow astrology?”

“I know I’m a Gemini, but I don’t know much else.”

“Oh, when’s your birthday?” David said excitedly.

“June nineteenth.”

David’s blue eyes widened and a grin crept into his face. He rearranged his fork and spoon on his napkin and said, “You’re not going to believe this.”

“What?” I said, now curious.

“My birthday is the day before yours — on June eighteenth.”

“Oh, really!”

“Does that make us the Gemini twins?” David said, the grin having spread across his whole face. Little crinkles formed at the corners of his eyes.

“Oh, you’re right!” I said laughing. “What year were you born in?”

“1954.”

“So we are three years apart — I’m twenty.”

David looked at me with those blue, blue eyes and I could see that the attraction I felt for him was mutual. At that moment there was no other place I would rather have been than sitting with David at the Tiki Garden on Shelburne Road in South Burlington, Vermont, with the sun sparkling on Lake Champlain in the background.

* * *

Sometime later than day, David recalls...

“I should allow you the rest of the day, Linda. I had fun,” I said.

“So did I and thank you so much,” she said.

“Would you like to go out again?” I asked.

“I’d love it,” she said with a big, beautiful smile.

“I have a craft show in Massachusetts next weekend, but perhaps we could have dinner a week from Friday?”

“Friday is my best day.”

“That would work for me.” I said. “I will call next week and set a time.”

“Sounds great!”

I took her hand and gave it a gentle shake, then walked out the door to my pickup truck. As I drove past the kitchen window, I saw Linda looking out at me. She waved, and I waved back.

On the way home, I thought about how much I enjoyed the afternoon with Linda, and I sensed she enjoyed it, too. I had never experienced this kind of understanding with any other woman before. Then I knew — just as clear as the crisp, blue, winter sky on that bright Vermont winter day, I said out loud in the cab of my Datson pickup, “Gemini twins.”

So, besides the beauty in nature, today I am grateful for that Sunday afternoon in January 1978, when my relationship with David was just beginning. I am even more grateful that we share our life's journey with one another now.

What are you celebrating?

Amish Men Jailed

2012-01-13T12:10:00.000-08:00

Erik Wesner has sparked an interesting discussion on his blog about ten Amish men who were jailed in Kentucky for refusing to display a Slow-Moving-Vehicle triangle on their buggies. Rather than recount all about that here, I suggest you click over to Amish America and learn more about it.

You can also read the Associated Press news article about the case.

As the Amish often do, they are in this case having us examine our own values by bringing this issue to the attention of the general public. By carefully considering which technologies they can accommodate and still maintain their culture, the Amish effectively determine what is essential to their lifestyle, while the rest of the world seems to be on a headlong pursuit of the latest fashions and technologies.

It varies a great deal from one community to the next about which technologies the Amish will adopt and which they will shun. From what I know about this group of Schwartzentrubers in Kentucky, they are particularly strict and allow no technologies we would call modern. Because this issue has been ongoing, I have to question who is at the helm -- to get this kind of stubborn adherence to the Ordnung (Amish church rules), there has to be someone in charge who is particularly stubborn and stalwart about the old ways. I have to wonder if the Amish men who are being jailed would resist to this extent of their own convictions, or are they afraid of the consequences from within their own group if they comply to the safety laws imposed by the "English" world? I simply don't know, but I have experienced enough Amish dynamics to know that this is a possibility.

The Amish are a martyr culture. The preachers would often ask: "If we were being persecuted for our faith the way our ancestors were, would we meet the challenge?" They claimed that because we weren't be tested, we really didn't know. It felt to me that these preachers were close to inviting martyrdom, so that they could test their faith. I wonder whether the men who are going to jail over this seemingly trivial issue have this in mind when they refuse to comply, by displaying the triangle, by offering a compromise of how they will make their buggies more visible at night, or by paying the fines imposed by noncompliance. It seems they are trying to take this issue that most people would consider a safety issue and pit it against their religious "convictions."

If this is the impetus behind the noncompliance then it seems if the courts push the issue, they are literally playing into the hands of the Amish men.

So what is the alternative? The Amish seem to be challenging us to examine our own values -- about safety, about tolerance, and about religious beliefs.

I used my training in ethics and philosophy to distill this down to a question, and this is what I came up with: Should religious groups be exempt from the rules of the road?

What do you think?

Announcing an Appearance on "American Experience"

2012-01-11T20:35:00.000-08:00

Image for the film "The Amish"

I am thrilled to announce that David and I will be appearing in a documentary named "The Amish" that will be airing on American Experience on Tuesday, February 28. This will be aired on PBS stations nationwide.

The documentary film company, Sarah Colt Productions, responsible for making the film, was such a pleasure to work with. They took time to learn about the Amish -- their history, their diversity, their spiritual beliefs, and to hear their voices. I have not actually seen the film, but I expect it will provide a nuanced and balanced view of Amish culture. What struck me during the interview, is that they were not out to project a particular image of the Amish -- rather they were asking the questions that would allow them to "discover" the many facets of Amish culture. To achieve this, they had to build up trust. And if one thing is true about most of the Amish people I know, is that they are good at figuring out who is trustworthy.

For an American Experience press release about the film, you can click here to visit my website. Scroll down to the second image -- you'll see a link to the PDF file in my press kit.

The night before the film crew came

The night before they came, David and I worked late to get the trim on the living room windows. We had replaced the windows, and I was not going to allow untrimmed windows to be in the film.

Windows complete

The day the film crew came

The morning the film crew came, the windows looked great -- I had even cleaned them until they sparkled. Five people showed up; they admired our work, and then they promptly covered those windows, so they could control the light. David got such a kick out of that, because I had been so Amish about finishing those windows.

Windows covered

Director David Belton and Producer Callie Wiser

A Day in the Life of an Amish Person, Part III

2012-01-08T11:51:00.000-08:00

This is the conclusion of the story I wrote many years ago of a day in my life when I was twelve.

Enos asked one of the eighth grade boys to close the curtain. This curtain was made of heavy canvas and was faded green. It hung from a rod and would be pulled together and snapped in the middle. I was always envious of the boys for having that job. It's not that I wanted to be a boy, I just wanted to close the curtain. But then again, the girls got to rotate the job of washing the blackboards and sweeping the floor every afternoon. I wanted to do both.

After our German reading we had our arithmetic lessons. Enos started with the fifth graders and moved through each grade. When he got to the seventh grade, we exchanged our papers. Then Enos would call the answers to the problems we had solved the day before and we checked one another's papers. Enos would give us grades according to the number we had right or wrong. Then he had each of us call out our grade as he recorded it in his grade book.

After arithmetic came our spelling lesson. We were assigned a list of words each week. Each day the lesson varied. Sometimes we wrote sentences, using each of the spelling words to show we knew the meaning of it.

And here is where this piece of writing ends. I faintly remember that I wrote this as a typical day in school because I was leading up to a story I did keep. This happened that afternoon.

I noticed that look of pain cross Enos's face several times, but then I saw a look of concern there that I had never seen before.

His desk faced the windows and all the pupils’ desks faced him. I turned around in my seat and looked out into the schoolyard. Outside it was almost as dark as night. I could see the barn in the eerie darkness, thirty feet from the schoolhouse. Then the wind hit the side of the schoolhouse with a loud thud. I looked out and saw snow whirling out of the darkness. Enos’s voice became very serious as he told one of the older boys to open the curtain. He talked to all the pupils in a serious tone of voice. The schoolroom was quieter than I had ever heard it. He said we had to leave the schoolhouse immediately, and that we should all dress as warmly and as quickly as we could, then we would form a chain with everyone holding hands. Enos instructed the older children to hold hands with the younger children. He looked sternly at the older boys and said, “This is not a time to worry about whose hand you are holding. Under no circumstances is anyone to let go of one another’s hands.” Enos explained that w
e were going to walk down to the end of school driveway to meet Yoxall. The children waiting for the second and third load would stay at the Yoders, who lived out by the road.

I looked out again and saw a sheet of white. The wall of the barn was no longer visible. We filed down to the basement and quickly put on our wraps.
Everyone lined up with Enos in the front of the line, Barbara Yoder, at the end of the line, and us pupils in between. Then Enos opened the door and the blizzard came in to meet us. What a biting wind! We all waited while Barbara closed the door, then we walked. The wind came from all directions at once. It filled up my throat and took my breath away. It blew underneath my dress, stinging my legs like needles and pushed, pulled, grabbed at me. Most of the time I couldn't see the person ahead of me whose hand I was holding. I wondered how Enos knew where to go. I knew that if we got lost we would walk in circles. I remembered reading about that in the Laura Ingalls Wilder stories. That quarter mile walk had never seemed so long. I was just beginning to wonder if we were lost when someone bumped into Raymond Yoder’s barn.
Yoxall was waiting for us. I wondered how he had managed to get there.

We were on the first load with the Gingeriches and the Yoders. We tried to be really quiet so Yoxall could concentrate. I wondered how he knew where to go. Most of the time he was driving into a white wall with a few quick glimpses of the rood in front of us. He made it to the Gingeriches, and then he got stuck. John Gingerich came with the tractor to pull out the station wagon. John was just hitching up the car to the tractor with a chain, when Datt came walking out of the storm. He had come to walk us home. I didn’t want to walk because I was already so cold, but I knew we had to. It was a half-mile walk, but it seemed like five. We were all nearly frozen when we walked in the lane. That's when I noticed Datt’s ear, as white as a dead man's ear. I had never seen a frozen ear before, so at first I didn’t know what it was. We were coming to the door when we remembered we had to enter the house through the cellar. Our regular door wouldn’t stay closed, so we kept it propped shut with a broomstick. All of a sudden we heard a loud crashing noise, then Mem screaming and crying out in pain. We hurried through the cellar and found her in a heap on the concrete floor below the stairs. She had seen us coming, and hurried down to open the door for us. A fine snow had sifted through the crack in the door onto the painted floor of the landing, making it slippery. Mem had stepped on that and fallen on her back, down the five steps to the cellar. So there we all were, cold as ice blocks. My legs and face were stinging, Datt’s ear was frozen, and Mem couldn’t get up. Datt helped her stand up, then the rest of us walked cautiously up the stairs. I got a rag and wiped up the landing. Then Datt helped Mem up the stairs, one at a time. Mem sat down and cried on the couch for a while. She had a nice fire going in the stove and we crowded around it. Mem took me into the bedroom and asked me to describe what her back looked like. It was black and blue, from her shoulder blades all the way down to her hips, with deeper bruises where she hit the edge of the stairs on the way down. She was still groaning in pain.

I made supper. I knew Datt loved mashed potatoes, so I made some. I also made creamed chicken, carrots, and applesauce, with oatmeal cake for dessert. While I was making supper, Lizzie did the dishes, Sarah and Susie filled the wood box, and Simon helped Joe with the chores.

Joe had gotten home from work early because the driver of the carpenter crew had heard the predictions of the blizzard on the radio and had come to get them.

Later I heard that Yoxall got everyone home without any mishaps. I still to this day do not understand how he did that.

So, this concludes my story of a day in my life at twelve years old. As this story demonstrates, there is no typical day in the life of an Amish person. Even without the blizzard a day in my life would not be a day in another Amish person's life because we each have a different way of perceiving or experiencing our world and our lives.

A Day in the Life of an Amish Person, Part II

2012-01-06T20:20:00.000-08:00

This is a continuation of the story I wrote of a day in my life when I was in seventh grade.

The station wagon pulled in the lane when we were in various stages of putting on our coats, scarves, bonnets, gloves, and boots. We grabbed our lunchboxes and hurried out. We piled into the car and our elderly driver "Yoxall" headed to the Gingeriches. There Owen, Sarah, Elizabeth, Jacob, Mary, Joey, and Johnny got in the station wagon. We had only two miles to go in the crowded station wagon. We got to school and headed into the basement to take off our "wraps."

The bell rang and all 63 children sat in their desks, in rows by grades. In the morning the "curtain" was always open and we could see the "lower grades." Barbara Yoder taught the first, second, third, and fourth graders. Enos, the "head teacher" taught fifth through eighth grades.

I was in seventh grade. I sat behind Ruth, my best friend, and in front of Eugene. There were eight students in my grade. Ruth, Eugene, and I would compete for the best grades. Ruth and I were equals, however, we got very proud of ourselves if we got even one point higher grade than Eugene, who was the shyest and the smartest in the school.

We sat there, facing Enos. He sat in his chair, his desk in front of the class. His long flowing beard went past his waist and would have rested on the desk, but he would tuck it under. I wondered whether it touched his knees.

Enos cleared his throat and put his hands together in front of his face. I remembered the first time I had seen his hands. I had been so amazed that his fingers could bend backwards at the joint. When I told Mom about it she told me in hushed tones that he had "crippling arthritis." Since then I had learned to know when he was in pain by the expression on his face. I could tell this was not one of his better days.

All of us bowed our heads for morning prayers. All together we said, "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come...." Usually the Amish said this prayer in German, but at school we spoke English. Only a chapter was read from the testament in German each morning.

After the morning prayer everyone got out their songbooks. I was Clara Yoder and Paul Gingerich's turn to chose a hymn and lead it at the beginning of each verse. They chose "There's a Mansion in the Sky" and "Where the Soul of Man Never Dies." Then one of the eighth graders had to chose a German song from our little black books. We sang, "Es sind zwein Weg in dieser Zeit." The German songs were a drag because I never understood the words.

When the last song was sung, everyone opened their desks to put away their song books. Inside my desk were my arithmetic, spelling, English, geography, and history books, a clipboard with paper, and in front was a pencil tray with one pen and three pencils. I kept my books on three neat piles, the largest books on the bottom. Most of the boys' desks were always a mess. I had only contempt for anyone who's desk looked like a rat's nest and I took pride in keeping mine neat. I got out my testament for the morning reading.

To be continued...

A Day in the Life of an Amish Person

2012-01-04T15:24:00.000-08:00

I've had people ask me to describe a typical day in the life of an Amish person. I never know to go about doing that, any more than I would know how to describe a typical day in the life of an American, a German, or a Canadian. So I never feel like I can adequately answer that question. Well today I was handed a gift from David. He has been going through his memorabilia for fodder for the book we are writing together, and he came across some of my writing from many years ago.

I don't know how many years ago I wrote this, but because it is written in longhand, I know it was before 1997, which is when I switched to typing on computer. All I know is that my memory was a lot sharper then than it is now, for I would have forgotten many of these details.

I like to think that I've grown in my writing from say ten years ago, but I was surprised that I liked what I had written. Because I even forgot I wrote it, I can read it as if it had been written by someone else.

So, for the next few posts, I will be transcribing a "day in my life" when I was twelve. It is, after all, the only way I could possibly describe "a day in the life of an Amish person" -- by describing it from my own perspective.

It was the winter of my thirteenth year. I was getting ready for bed. I opened the door to the upstairs. The cold air surrounded me as I ran up the stairs, grabbed nightgowns off the beds, and ran downstairs. My sisters and I warmed our flannel nightgowns by the wood stove in the living room. Then we undid our dresses, held together by straight pins, put on our nightgowns, then warmed our backs to the woodstove one more time before running upstairs and scrambling under the covers. We slept two in a bed, and Sarah and I shared a room. We curled up in the middle of the cold bed, with our backs together. The warmth from Sarah's back was the only warmth I felt. I knew with the pile of blankets, I would soon get warm. We were covered with a flannel comforter, 1 wool bed blanket, another heavier "buggy" blanket, and three quilts on top of that. I wondered what the temperature was, with no insulation and no heat in my room. I fell asleep listening to the wind whirring around the house.

Morning came too soon. I awoke to the sound of tap-tap-tapping. It was Mem using her broomstick on the ceiling downstairs to wake us up. Sarah and I awoke and shivered with the thought of leaving our warm nest. I felt like a bear, being woken out of his winter sleep. Sarah and I did a 1-2-3, then threw back the covers, dashed to the closet, grabbed a dress, and got our underwear and apron from our dresser drawers and ran down the stairs to dress by the woodstove. I pinned my gray chambray dress and apron, let down my hair, brushed it, and pulled it back, using barrettes to put it into a bun. I covered my hair with my black organdy "cap" or covering. I finished getting dressed by pulling on my black stockings and shoes.

I went to the kitchen. The smell of eggs frying reminded me that I was hungry. Mom was making oatmeal over the burner on the oilstove. In the corner of the kitchen a teakettle hummed softly on the cookstove. I poured some of the hot water into the enamel "basin" in the sink. I added cold water from the pail on the counter. I used a clean washcloth to wash my face, then I left it for someone else to use.

I decided to pack the lunches before I ate breakfast. Last night I had done part of them. Now all seven lunchboxes sat on the counter, the lids open, like gaping mouths. I had made a batch of oatmeal cookies the previous afternoon. That evening I had wrapped two at a time in waxed paper. And I had opened 2 jars of canned peaches from our stores in the basement and put a small jar of those in each lunchbox along with the cookies. So now I set out slices of bread and spread them with butter. Next I took slices of balogna and put one on every other slice of bread. I wish we had a change from balogna sandwiches, I thought, as I put together the sandwiches and wrapped them in waxed paper. As I was snapping the lunchboxes shut, my brother, Simon, came into the kitchen and asked, "Do you have a spoon in my lunchbox?"

"Of course I do!" I answered curtly, without thinking. When Simon wasn't looking I went back and quietly put a spoon in each lunch.

I sat down at the table and ate two "soft" eggs Mem had fried for me. I dunked pieces of bread into the yoke and ate it. Mem moved about the kitchen, urging us to our coats on because "Yoxall will soon be here."

To be continued...

Monica "The Mennobrarian" is Back!

2012-01-03T06:53:00.000-08:00

I don't know about you, but I've been missing Monica while she was away. She came through a very difficult pregnancy last year, and now has a healthy little baby boy. She had to get her blog up and running again when she lost her domain name, and the "followers" could not be transferred. So please drop by, become a follower, and enjoy her perspective on life. She is a warm, giving person and has shared some of the best recipes around, she's a wonderful gardener, and an artistic homemaker. And you'll catch a glimpse of their little baby -- he's so cute!

Welcome back Monica!

A Fond Farewell to Stephen Scott

2012-01-02T12:46:00.000-08:00

I'd like to send my condolences to the family members, friends, and colleagues of Stephen Scott, who died last week. You can click here for his obituary.

I got to know Stephen Scott when I was doing my internship at the Young Center. I could usually count on him when I needed help with anything, including solving technology glitches. He remarked on that one day... how it's ironic that a Plain person ends up becoming a technology geek. He was a member of the Old Order River Brethern and was therefore close to the subjects he wrote about the Amish, like the book "Why Do They Dress that Way?"

Stephen and I had several philosophical discussions about Plain cultures while I was working there. In his own quiet way, he helped me see things from a different point of view at times. And he was a calm listener, which made it easy to discuss such things.

Stephen Scott will be missed by many. My heart goes out to his family and colleagues at the Young Center. May he rest in peace.

Stephen Scott in February 2006 at the Young Center

Happy New Year! And Winners Chosen

2012-01-01T09:37:00.000-08:00

It is now twelve hours into 2012, a brand new year. I look forward to what this year may bring. Here in Western Massachusetts the sun is out, and it is another mild day, which helps shed a bright outlook on what's ahead.

David just drew two names for winners for the books I offered as giveaways. Congratulations to Shelley and Ronnie -- your names were chosen. Shelley and Ronnie, if you'll send me your addresses (salomafurlong[at]gmail[dot]com), I will send your books to you. Shelley, you will receive the book "A Stolen Life" and Ronnie, you will receive "Salt Dancers." Happy reading to you both!

I'd like to extend good wishes to all for a Happy New Year. May you feel gratitude and joy for what is now and may that continue into the new year and beyond, as you hope and dream your future.

Peace and Love to all!

We Did It!

2011-12-30T11:13:00.000-08:00

Thank you all, for your comments and for joining up on my blog -- you helped me met my goal of 200 followers -- I actually have one to spare! I want to thank all of you, whether you joined lately, early on, or somewhere in between. It has been a very interesting blogging journey. Those emails I get once in a while from those of you who enjoy my writing, whether it be blog or book, are so very gratifying. Thank you!

I look forward to pulling two names from the hat on Monday. I won't be putting the first name back in, so that one person doesn't win both books.

I am also very grateful for others' writing. Yesterday when I read a post by Lisa Romeo, I decided it warranted a mention on my blog. To find out what inspired me, please click over to her blog: Lisa Romeo Writes. I think her discovery is very interesting... she started writing her "Did It" list at the end of a year when she didn't feel she had gotten much accomplished. When she made the list, she discovered she really had done more than she realized. I love "taking stock" of my life once in a while. It really inspires gratitude for all that makes my life what it is.

This will most likely be my last post for 2011, so I want to wish all of you a Happy New Year. May your hopes and dreams be realized and may you find meaning on this journey we call life. We are all Pilgrims on this road...

In the Spirit of Giving...

2011-12-27T09:16:00.000-08:00

Good morning all!

I am announcing a giveaway for a book, possibly two. This is another way of thanking you for all the visits to my blog in 2011.

The book I'm offering is a copy of the memoir A Stolen Life by Jaycee Dugard. It is the dramatic story of the author being held captive for eighteen years by someone who abused her. To learn more about it, you can see it on Amazon. This is a hardcover book.

I've had a goal for this blog... I'd really like to have 200 followers by Monday, January 1. Right now I have 196, which means I need at least four more. Here is an incentive to sign up, if you haven't already... if I can reach 200 or more by Monday, I'll do another drawing for a second book. This one is by Ursula Hegi, one of my favorite authors. Her book, Stones from the River is one of my all-time favorites. The book I'll be giving away is Salt Dancers. It's about inherited sorrow, when the main character finds herself pregnant at forty-one. She returns to her home in the Pacific Northwest to confront haunting memories of her past. You can find out more about it on Amazon. This is a paperback copy.

There is one hitch. You need to be a follower to enter the giveaway, so no "anonymous" entries, please. If you want to enter the giveaway, please leave a comment with your "sign-in" name and specify which book you'd like to receive.

I'll be announcing the winner (or winners) on Monday and sending the book or books on Tuesday.

I hope your Christmas was wonderful. Mine was very enjoyable. It was great to have our sons, Paul and Tim, home to visit us.

My friend, Mary Ann, another former Amish person who writes the blog, A Joyful Chaos, has made a very wonderful announcement of the miracle that happened in her life during Christmas. Please click over to see her post. Congratulations, Mary Ann and family!

Silent Night...

2011-12-24T22:01:00.000-08:00

Warm wishes for a Joyful Christmas from my home to yours. Here are a few images of our Christmas this year. Don't you love our scraggly little tree? I'm not actually sure how that made it home with us, but here it is!

David made this beautiful cherry shelf for spices for our kitchen. What a gift!

I hope your Christmas is filled with peace, love, warmth, light, and good cheer. And joy to the world!

This and That Tuesday

2011-12-20T12:05:00.000-08:00

Today we have a wonderfully sunny day in Western Massachusetts. I am pausing in my holiday preparations to post some thoughts.

Last week, David and I were lingering in the kitchen over tea and coffee around 9:00 in the morning. My eyes were drawn to a huge bird, flying just above the baseball field, out behind the town offices. I said, "David I think that is a bald eagle!" He saw it, too, but didn't quite believe that is what it was. The bird landed in a tree, and I could just make out his white head with binoculars. I was still in my nightgown, so I asked David to go out with his binoculars and see what it is. He did -- and he found a bald eagle sitting on a branch overlooking the Connecticut River, just looking around. He got a close-up view of it, including the big yellow curved beak. David came back in and convinced me to get dressed and come out with the camera and the binoculars. So we went out together and it was still there. Wow! What a sight! How majestic! I knew, even as I was viewing it, that I was afforded an opportunity of a lifetime. I just kept saying, "Oh, how beautiful! Oh my God, that is so amazing!" David was trying to take a picture of it, when it flew from the tree, out over the river, and away. The wingspan on that bird was wider than David's armspan. It soared right above the water, and then was gone -- as quietly as a mystery.

Two days ago, I was going to the bank, when I looked up, and lo and behold, there was an eagle, soaring around in circles. Once you've seen a bald eagle, there is no mistaking it -- the shape of the wings, the way it soars, that wide wingspan. When I watched him, I could almost imagine myself up there, getting an eagle's view of the world in which we live. So, I am thankful for these two sightings. It is another reminder of what a wonderful thing it is to have nature all around us.

Photo from Skolai Images

Have you ever seen a bald eagle? If so, where, and in what setting? Did you find it awe-inspiring?

I've gotten some very creative cards and letters from friends this season. Some people are so inventive with the way they catch you up on the year's happenings. I was particularly struck by one from John and Pat Anderson, who are parents to five and grandparents to fourteen. They managed, in one card, to include a photo of each of their children and grandchildren, photos of their fiftieth wedding anniversary, a wedding photo of themselves and each of their children, and one of their recent snowstorm. And then there are words of wisdom besides. This witty wisdom comes from the point of view of the stork, who visited their youngest daughter this summer. This was a rather unexpected visit, and it tells us how it has been working for the family for the last fifty years, and how it has arthritis in its wing joints. Then it says, "My outlook and attitude, however, could not be better and let me tell you why. The many bundles I deliver are examples of the greatest treasures you can receive.

My message to everyone is to pause and consider the real meaning of the holiday season. It's not the gifts and jingle bells we have become accustomed to, rather the creation of life, be it an infant child or the natural evolution of nature that surrounds us each and every day.

Believe it or not, our greatest gifts are free and don't arrive gift wrapped. I hope you will take a few minutes every now and then to think about what this old bird is trying to say."

I get what the old bird is trying to say. It is important for us to listen to the sages in our lives. What a blessing it is to have the those who have been seasoned in life's joys and sorrows share their wisdom with us.

I first met the Andersons back when I was teaching school among the Amish. I visited them in their home in Short Hills, New Jersey just before I left the Amish for good. Then we lost track of one another for more than thirty years. Earlier this year, I got an email from them and we reconnected. Since then, David and I have stayed at their home several times when on book tour. It is always a pleasure to be with them. We are honored to be in their circle of friends, and to be reminded that the important things in life are not always what we focus on.

Pat and John Anderson

John and Pat both have blogs. Click here to visit Pat's blog and click here for John's blog, which includes a scan of the Christmas card I described.

Do you have sages in your life? What have you learned from them?

Now on a sadder note. Please keep the Yoder family in Fredericksburg, Ohio, in your prayers. This is an Amish family who just lost their fifteen-year-old daughter, Rachel, in a mysterious shooting. To learn more about that, you can read the report here. It is now believed that it was an accident, as reported here, though there are still questions left unanswered. This tragedy is the second in just a few months for the Yoder family. Rachel's mother was killed in an accident when the van she was riding in was hit by a truck in September. Rachel has ten surviving siblings. I can only imagine the grief that this family is going through. My prayers are with them.

And the winner is...

2011-12-19T07:13:00.000-08:00

KQ Sue! Congratulations, Sue, for winning the giveaway for my book. Please send me your address, and I will send this out to you today. Hopefully you will still get it in time for Christmas. Please let me know to whom I should sign it.

My email is salomafurlong[at]gmail[dot]com.

Thank you, all who participated in this giveaway. I hope you will consider buying my book, either through me, Amazon, or your local bookstore. To buy it from me, you can click on the image on the top right hand side of the page.

For all those who participated in David's giveaway, please go on over to his blog. He is about to announce his winner.

Happy Holidays to all!

Winners announced tomorrow morning

2011-12-18T11:02:00.000-08:00

David and I will be putting up our Christmas tree and decorations today, so I will post something later about that. In the meantime, I wanted to remind everyone that I will be pulling a name for a winner for my book tomorrow morning. Also, David will be doing the same for the giveaway on his blog. Click on the image below to go to his blog to sign up for his giveaway. Your chances on receiving one of his Vintage Village miniatures are pretty high, for not many have signed up.

Here is a sneak preview. Click on the image to go to his blog and sign up for a chance to win one of these buildings.

This and That Thursday and a Giveaway

2011-12-15T16:06:00.000-08:00

There are many things I am grateful for today, and so I am offering a Christmas giveaway of my memoir, Why I Left the Amish and a one of my fabric reusable gift bags to go with it. First of all, I am grateful to all of you for visiting my blog. I know how hard it is to choose how to use one's time and I also know how many other interesting blogs are out there. So, I feel like giving a token of my appreciation. Simply leave a comment after this post, stating clearly whether you'd like to be included in the drawing. I will be drawing a name on Monday morning, so the winner can still receive the book before Christmas.

David's business of making mini villages is starting to blossom. He is very gratified when people recognize the talent it takes to make such wonderful little creations. If you haven't had a chance to see his Vintage Village Designs, please visit his blog by clicking here. He is offering a giveaway of one of his mini designs. He also has posted his larger Vintage Village Designs. There is still time for you to receive an order for Christmas, depending on where you live, so be sure to visit his blog.

Now a little of this and that.

Last night I delivered my last author talk for 2011 -- it was number 70. This was in the beautiful town of Guilford, Connecticut, on a mild December day. David and I drove down there, past the hospital where he was born, in Middletown, Connecticut. We got a glimpse of the ocean at sunset at Guilford Harbor.

Here is David looking out to sea, less than ten miles from the place where he used to play along the shore as a toddler. Guilford happens to be near Clinton, where his family lived until he was three years old.

When we got there, the sunset was glowing off the windows of these houses so that it looked like they were on fire. It was so cool to get there at that moment, because it faded really quickly. For a better view, click on the image.

I gave my talk in the community room of the Guilford Free Public Library, where they had a fabulous quilt display. I had an enthusiastic audience, made up of 75 people. It is always a wonderful feeling to connect with the audience. When that happens to the degree that it did last night, I come away from my talk feeling energized. The questions were great; the response to the talk was exhilarating, and the dialogue afterwards was engaging. I think I wasn't the only one who didn't want this evening to end.

So, as I bring my book talks to a close for 2011, I am grateful for all that this year has brought. I'd like to thank Julie Loehr at Michigan State University Press for deciding to publish my book. None of the book talks could have happened without that. David and I have gotten a chance to connect with more than 3,000 people that we would not have, except through the book talks. We had the opportunity to travel to many places we wouldn't have otherwise. We both enjoy traveling and I think David is the best traveling companion there is.

And finally I'd like to end with expressing my gratitude for David's sense of humor. The other day we were walking to the local market. We were talking about ideas. David is an ideas man and most of the time he has good ones. Once in a while, I have a good idea and when I do, David is sometimes hesitant to acknowledge it. I was fishing for a compliment, and he wasn't giving it. So I said, "You have a lot of good ideas, but you are not the sole owner of them, you know. Maybe you are too proud to recognize that." He said, "I didn't grow up practicing competitive humility like you did in the Amish." I laughed so hard, I almost couldn't walk. Did I mention that David also has the best lines? He nailed this one!

May your holidays be filled with peace, love, joy, and good cheer. (David says "and humility.")

Answering the Final Questions

2011-12-11T12:39:00.000-08:00

Courtney asked several questions. I will insert my answers in between each question.

Who are considered elders? Is it just the ministers/deacon/bishop?

Courtney, you are correct: teach church district usually has one bishop, two ministers, and a deacon. Together, they are the elders of the church.

And I'm curious about different styles of buggies. Meaning are there different ones that seat different number of people or have a different function, like used for picking up supplies from town?

Yes, there are different styles of buggies and this varies from one community to another. Most have buggies with tops on them, but not all. As far as I know, every community has the single buggy and a "surry," has more than one seat for transporting a family. Most communities need a "bench wagon" that transports the church benches from house to house. (The exception to this is Somerset, Pennsylvania, where they have a church building and therefore don't rotate church services from one house to another.) Some communities also have "hackney wagons" that I think you are referring to, which are used to transport supplies from town. These are probably the more conservative groups, because I think most Amish find it easier to hire an English van driver to transport their supplies, rather than have a wagon for just that purpose.

Do you have any memory of work frolics when you were younger?

Yes, I have a chapter in my book called "A Frolic." I was five years old when we had a frolic to build a foundation under the old house we had moved from up the road.

You talked about hating ironing since it was gas, but what about the actual doing the laundry part? I read somewhere, and I can't remember where, about the process for doing laundry. The laundry was washed in the washer, wrung with a wringer, rinsed in plain water, wrung out again, rinsed in water with fabric softener, wrung out, and finally hung to dry. But that shirts, pants, and dresses are not wrung out since they wrinkle terribly. It makes me so thankful for my electric washer and dryer. I'm one of those people that hates cleaning lol. I would be a terrible Amish woman! I only clean because I can't stand filth.

Your description of doing the laundry is very accurate. The process we used of not putting the dresses through the wringer was called "drip drying." It saved a lot of ironing, especially when we changed over to polyester fabrics (oh how I hate polyester to this day... I can remember in the hot summer it was like wearing plastic bags). For us, there was another step involved, before we could do all the above. We had to heat our water in a big iron pot in the basement. And on wash days when there was no water left in the rain water tank, we had to haul it in from the pump by the barn before we could heat it. Other people in our community had hot and cold running water by then, but we could not afford it.

Some of the more restrictive Amish communities still haul and heat their water, but by far the majority of the Amish have used their ingenuity to alter equipment to fit into what is allowed in their communities, and so it makes washing clothes a lot easier than what we had to do.

When I was visiting Amish friends in Kentucky recently, I found out that they use solar panels to power their washing machine. That means they don't have to have that noisy and smelly gasoline engine in their basement or washhouse. Wow -- this I could never have imagined as a child!

Courtney, thank you very much for your questions. Many of these things I take for granted because I grew up in this lifestyle. Therefore, I would miss writing about such things unless someone asked. It makes me look at the Amish part of my life with fresh eyes.

Scarf Giveaway

2011-12-06T07:38:00.000-08:00

My friend, Lynn Kimmerle, author of the blog "Monarch Book Reviews" is offering a beautiful Margo Pettiti scarf on her blog. Be sure to click on over to enter your name for this colorful wearable piece of art. For selfish reasons, I don't want you all to go there -- I actually want a chance to win this scarf myself!

Be sure to check out Lynn's blog while you're there. I love the sense of humor that comes through in her reviews and her writing about everyday happenings.

On December 19, we'll find out who the winner is!

Leaving a Legacy, Revisited

2011-12-01T22:30:00.000-08:00

Ever so long ago, I asked for your questions, and I have not gotten around to answering them. Tonight I will begin the process of answering these, one or a few at a time. The first was posted by Kiley.

When you had your children, did/do they have a relationship with your family despite you leaving your Amish community? How do they see your "history" growing up?

Thank you for this wonderful question, Kiley. It made me reflect on this question, and I had written a response, but then I vaguely remembered that I had written this once before. I found it and liked it better than what I wrote, so I am going to repost (with a few modifications) what I had written on January 5, 2010.

When Paul and Tim were growing up, they knew about my background, but they didn’t often ask questions about it. When they did, I would answer their questions, but no more because I didn’t want to push anything on them they weren’t ready for. I used the advice I had read for when your child asks you a question about sex -- to answer the questions they ask and not use it as an opportunity to give them "the sex talk."

When Paul was 14 and Tim was 12, David and I planned a family trip to Ohio to visit my parents. The boys dragged their feet, but I was pretty adamant that this trip was for their future –– that they were not going to go through their whole lives without knowing something about their maternal heritage and without memories of their Amish grandparents. They didn’t have too many questions then, and I don’t honestly know how much of the trip they remember.

In 2004, when David and I traveled back to the community for my father’s funeral, our younger son, Tim, went with us. He was eighteen at the time, so I didn’t have any idea he would react the way he did. He was absolutely fascinated. He was very perceptive and noticed things about the culture that I never had, even having lived it for 23 years. As soon as we left the wake, he started peppering me with questions: “Mom, are you some kind of celebrity with these people, even though you left?” “How many second cousins do I have?” Why do they dress that way?” “What? They can have LED lights on their buggies, but they can’t have electricity!”

Seeing my culture through Tim's eyes made me reflect on it differently than I had before.

A year later, when my mother died, our older son, Paul, traveled to Ohio from Johns Hopkins, where he was attending his last year of college. His reaction was exactly the opposite of Tim’s –– he completely drew inward and didn’t want to talk about what he was experiencing. I asked him if he had any questions, and he said, “I don’t even know what to ask.” I thought he may have a delayed reaction, and that later he would ask me questions, but to this day I don’t know what he was thinking and feeling during that weekend. This was very surprising to me, because Paul is a people-person and able to relate to nearly everyone.

I have a feeling that Paul and Tim will someday want to know more about their Amish heritage. I hope I am still around to tell them stories, or at least have enough journals, letters, blogs, and other writings left to tell the story. Right now I would consider that a gift more precious than gold, for there is so little I know about my parents before they got married. Dad was 34 and Mom 32 when they got married, so there are 66 collective years of memories I would love to have filled in. As it is, I have only snatches here and there and my imagination to fill in the rest.

I often wish I had a collection of photos of my parents when they were growing up. Still, if I had to choose between stories and photos, I'd choose stories. How about you?

Forces Changing the Amish from within

2011-11-25T11:23:00.000-08:00

The word "bizarre" has been used many times in describing the hair-cutting attacks that were allegedly orchestrated by Sam Mullet from Bergholz, Ohio. And for good reason -- it is pretty bizarre. From what I've heard of Sam Mullet, and the little I've seen from videos such as this one, I'd say he is one scary dude. I first heard about him back in 2007 when his community was raided because of allegations of child sexual abuse.

Sam Mullet is behind bars now, which I found out on Wednesday night through an article in the New York Times. I hope that this opens an opportunity for people in that community who feel trapped or are concerned for their children to make their escape while they can. There is a lot of debate about whether Sam Mullet is or is not a cult leader. I don't know the answer to this question -- it probably has a lot to do with one's definition of what a cult leader is. For me, this is not really the issue -- the issues of his abuse of power in all their different forms are far more important.

The other debate is about whether Sam Mullet is or is not Amish. I've heard declarations from Amish people that he is absolutely not Amish. This brings up a whole debate about what makes a person Amish. Until this issue about Sam Mullet appeared, I think if people identify themselves as Amish, they are Amish. He was certainly born Amish. He was Amish when he was ordained minister and then bishop. So when did he cease to be Amish? Obviously, he still wants to claim he is Amish (possibly to hide behind the label to carry out his abuses). Either way, the mainstream Amish were rejecting him as an acceptable Amish person, or taking away his Amishness. So the symbol of the beard and haircutting is important in understanding the way he thinks. He must have thought he is evening the score by depriving his Amish enemies of their Amishness by cutting the very thing that distinguishes them as such.

What I find the most interesting is that the men in the Amish communities had to be attacked for some of them to be willing to use the laws in the "outside" world to put a stop to the abuses. And the claims from several of the victims -- that he would rather have been beaten black and blue, or that he'd rather be dead -- are melodramatic and taking that Amish martyrdom just a little too far. Their hair will grow back. I don't doubt that they were concerned for their well-being and locking their doors or buying pepper spray and shotguns. They should not have to live in fear of violence.

The allegations of the abuse within the Bergholz community is also important. If people were being made to sleep in a chicken coop and beating on one another and if Sam Mullet was indeed taking sexual advantage of the women in the community, it is not a safe environment in which to raise children, whether or not they are being abused directly.

I have never heard anything about Sam Mullet's wife. I find it interesting that she has never been mentioned in all of this. I have no idea whether she is still alive or with him, but I just find it odd that she has never been mentioned in all of the articles I've read.

Perhaps this is an example of how it is getting harder for the Amish to live their lives separate from the world. Other examples are: the Amish in Kentucky who have gone to court about not having the orange triangles on their buggies; the alleged sexual abuse by Chester Mast; and the money fraud case of Monroe Beachy. It may be that the Amish communities cannot continue to be so sheltered as they have been. In all these issues, except for the one about the triangles, it is because of deviant behavior by members of their own communities that they are having to fall back on the laws in mainstream culture. The Amish are not equipped to deal with sociopathic behavior because they don't recognize that there is often a psychological basis for them. These examples demonstrate how the Amish will be forced to change the way they deal with deviant behavior or else succumb to the laws in mainstream society.

Blankets with a Cedar Smell

2011-11-23T08:59:00.000-08:00

I was cold the other night, so I took our thick comforter out of the cedar chest and got under it. I was soon warm, but what I noticed first was the smell of the cedar transported me back to my childhood. In a flash, I was back in the cold upstairs of my childhood, shivering under the covers, with my back up against one of my sister's to get warm. I recalled how, as each cold season approached, we would put a warm blanket on our bed. When that was not warm enough, we'd pile another on our bed, until we had a pretty big and heavy pile of blankets that would have to keep us warm through the winter.

We had no heat in our upstairs, and our walls were not insulated, which meant it got as cold in our upstairs as it was outside, minus the wind (mostly -- if we got too close to the windows, we could feel the wind coming through the cracks). We'd take our nightgowns down by the wood stove and change into them. We'd wrap a blanket around ourselves and then run for our beds and dive under the covers. As a young child, I would do that in my bare feet, and then the challenge was getting my feet warmed up. Later, I wore white cotton socks, which helped a lot.

Getting up in the morning was brutal. I used to describe it as having to jump out of a warm cocoon into freezing water. Most of the time we didn't have privacy by the wood stove in the mornings, so we had to get dressed upstairs. Brrrr! Our teeth would chatter!

Most Amish homes had a register in the floors upstairs, which would allow the heat to rise. My sisters and I kept asking for us to put one in, but it never happened.

Memories like this always make me ever more grateful for what I have now. So this Thanksgiving, I will add "living in a warm, comfy house" as one of the things I give thanks for.

Photo of our house today after completion of a "deep energy retrofit"

Before the house was insulated and when we could feel the wind coming through the cracks of the windows.

What is one thing you are grateful for this Thanksgiving?

I hope you all have a holiday filled with love, health, warmth, and good cheer!

See you soon!

Announcements: Radio Interview and a Craft Show

2011-11-17T22:16:00.000-08:00

For as long as I can remember, I have always wanted to be on the radio. The first time I was interviewed was with Daria Fisk on a local radio station here in the Pioneer Valley soon after we moved here in 2008. Since then I've had about half a dozen interviews.

I had one with Clarice Drew on November 3 for one-half hour. We both agreed that that half hour went by very quickly. So she had me on this week on her show, "Just a Few with Clarice Drew." I have had the opportunity to talk with her both on and off the air, and she is a really dear person -- warm-hearted, sensitive, insightful, and a very skilled interviewer.

So, should you care to, give a listen to the podcast of my interviews with Clarice Drew on "Just a Few." (How's that for a triple rhyme?) You can listen to the one of November 2, (about two-thirds of the way through the podcast is my interview) or the one of November 16.

David is doing a craft show in Westport, Connecticut this weekend, which I will be helping him with. He has been so supportive of my book talks. This finally gives me a chance to return the favor and support him in his endeavor. He has been a busy artist these past few weeks. If you happen to be near Westport, Connecticut this weekend, please stop by and see us. And if not, you can always visit David's blog.

Have a wonderful weekend! I hope to be back in touch by early next week.

Family in Kentucky and Ohio

2011-11-13T12:21:00.000-08:00

During our recent trip back from Missouri, David and I got to see quite a bit of interesting landscape. It took us a while to grasp that we were seeing cotton fields when we were driving through southeastern Missouri. I had never seen a cotton field before. Here is a photo taken from the window of our moving car:

Sometime after I left the Amish the final time, several families from my original community started a new Amish settlement in the Munfordville, Kentucky area. Many of my first cousins and their families were among those who moved. Later, the family I used to live with while I was teaching school, moved there also. I've always wanted to see the area, so that I can visualize the community. We drove through the community on our way back from Missouri. We stopped and visited the family I used to live with and gave them the surprise of their lives, they said. (They didn't say whether it was a pleasant or unpleasant one). They were sitting out in their field, roasting hot dogs and looking out over a breathtaking vista. They pointed to a farm where they said one of my cousins and his family lives. It did not look that far away as the crow flies, but they said it's nineteen miles to get there by road, for the Green River runs through the middle of the Amish community.

Here are a few photos we took in Munfordville area:

The Amish here use SMVs.

What a pretty farm!

And pretty horses...

So, it was great to get to see the setting where many of my cousins live in Kentucky. You may be wondering why I didn't visit them when I was there. So far I've not gotten the scuttlebutt on what affect my book has had on the Amish communities in general, but I don't imagine most Amish are thrilled that I broke the silence about the abuses in my childhood. The Amish way of dealing with these things is stoic; if you don't talk about them, they aren't really there. Because of this, having me in their midst could be quite uncomfortable.

After we left the Amish community, we visited my sister, Katherine, who lives at the Galilean Home in Liberty, Kentucky. We took her out to lunch, and then I took her to a sewing shop. Her pastime is embroidering. She bought herself enough materials to keep her busy through the winter. She was not very happy that day. Here is a photo of her and me at the Galilean Home:

We traveled to Ohio that night and stayed with David's sister and her husband overnight. The next morning, we met three of my nieces for breakfast. Our camera was not getting the colors very well in the setting we were in, so these pictures are technically not very good. But trust me, all three of them are drop-dead gorgeous. We had a wonderful time catching up with them. Not only are they beautiful physically, but they are very beautiful people. I am proud to be their aunt!

From left the right: Leanna, Me, Katy, and Sarah

Radiant, they are!

You will make my day if you tell me I look like her. Just ignore the gray hair and the sore on my nose from my fall in Indiana...

Their vibrance and zest for life is contagious, and I had to think of being that young again, when so many directions were open to me. Katy's heart is in California, which she is planning to move to (her enthusiasm was so contagious, she almost has me wanting to move there); Leanna is a nurse with the ability and the personality to go anywhere; and Sarah gets along with just about everyone, as far as I know. She works three jobs and hopes it's in the stars to have her own family.

Having this time with my nieces was a wonderful ending to our trip. I hope it won't be long before I get to see them again.

Do you have relatives who remind you of your younger self?

Tell Me about Yourself Award

2011-11-11T20:45:00.000-08:00

Thank you to Linda from Hutt-Write Voice for the "Tell Me about Yourself Award." Linda, thank you for thinking of me! I enjoy your blog because it gives me a perspective into your world -- one I know so little about, even though the Amish and Hutterites are both from Anabaptist traditions.

There are several rules to this award:

1. Thank and link back to the person who gave you the award.
2. Share 7 things about yourself.
3. Give the award to 15 other bloggers.

My first reaction to this award was, What am I going to tell people about myself that they don't already know -- I am such an open book. But upon thinking about it, I've come up with seven things I can share that many of you don't know. Here they are:

1. I am a night person. I've always envied writers who get up in the wee hours of the morning and write for several hours before I'm even out of bed.

2. I love butterflies. I love watching them, I love their beauty, and I love how they transform from a chrysalis to to a butterfly.

3. I love the number 33.

4. I love babies. The feeling of having a baby fall asleep on my shoulder is divine.

5. I don't drink coffee and never have. I love the smell, but I cannot stand the taste.

6. I detest the smell of cigarette smoke.

7. Once in a while when David and I travel together, I let out this enraged guttural growl. David has gotten to the point where he just looks around for the Hummer that must be close by.

Now I am supposed to give this award to 15 other bloggers. But because I like the number 10 more than I like 15, I am going to pass it on to ten others. These are not in any particular order.

1. Katie Troyer at Pinecraft-Sarasota. Katie, I love your photography and your observations.

2. Lynn Kimmerle at Monarch Book Reviews. Lynn, it has been such a pleasure to get to know you. Thank you for your thoughtful book reviews.

3. Karen Lang at Write Now. Karen, thank you for your generosity in sharing such great tips and resources with other writers.

4. Rhonda Schrock at The Natives Are Getting Restless. Rhonda, it was wonderful to meet you in Indiana. I love the sense of humor you weave all through your blog posts.

5. Delwyn at A Hazy Moon. What amazing beauty and art you portray on your blog!

6. Britt Kaufmann at Interesting Theory. Britt, I love how you draw me into your world with your words.

7. Ian at Views from the Bald Patch. Ian, I don't know if I ever told you this, but I love the name of your blog. I also like your perspective from that vantage point.

8. Misha at From My Front Porch in the Mountains. Misha, I love how you share your love for "all creatures great and small."

9. Deb at What's in My Attic?. Deb, it was such a pleasure to meet you in Maryland. I love the title of your blog.

10. Kate at The Parchment Girl. Thank you for all the wonderful book reviews you share with the world.

Linda, thank you again for passing on this award. This has been fun and a break from my usual posts.

A Mennonite Wedding and Apple Butter Festival

2011-11-08T18:41:00.000-08:00

After Iowa, David and I drove to Missouri to see my Mennonite cousins, aunt, and uncle. We went to the reception of my cousin Martha's youngest daughter, Miriam's wedding. And I thought Amish weddings were big! Here are some pictures taken at the wedding:

Three-hundred people attended the wedding

A glimpse of the bride and groom

Aren't they adorable?

My cousins, Martha and Emma (Martha is mother to the bride and Emma is an aunt to her)

My Aunt Martha, who is like a smaller version of my late mother. She looks, acts, talks, IS so much like Mem that David calls her "Little Katie." When I told her that, she said, "Well, I'm glad he added the 'little' part."

The day after the wedding, David and I had the privilege of being at the Apple Butter Festival that is put on every year as a fund raiser for the Mennonite School. Here are some of our photos taken at that event:

Uncle Dan is stoking the fire... he and Martha are in charge of making the apple butter every year. He is 90 and she is 81.

David got in on the act -- he and Emma are adding the brown sugar and cinnamon.

Fun rides...

An afternoon auction

Silly me for not taking photos of the fun gatherings when we were together with Emma's and Martha's children and grandchildren. David and I thoroughly enjoyed ourselves at all the events. I feel so blessed that I discovered my Mennonite relatives. We always knew of one another, but my family was Amish and they were Mennonite, which makes a big difference to the people in my original community. Dan and Martha used to be Amish, but they left and joined the Mennonites. They are such Christian, good-hearted, loving people, and it is amazing to me that it took me until I was fifty to get to know them. This happened when my sister Elizabeth was ill and in the hospital. They then hosted that family get-together that included Amish, Mennonites, and those of us who are neither. I mentioned this in a blog posting here. Aunt Martha, Cousin Martha, and Cousin Emma were at Elizabeth's deathbed with me, which was an absolute Godsend. I will always be grateful for that.

I have one more post to do of our travels -- this time through Kentucky and Ohio. Then after that I will be posting answers to questions posed by readers while I was on tour.

Scenes from Iowa

2011-11-05T21:24:00.000-07:00

I did two talks in Iowa -- the first one on Coralville, the second in Independence. There was a downpour at the time of the talk in Coralville, which resulted in three inches of water in the parking lot at the library. I imagine more people would have showed up if the weather had been more pleasant, but even still, there were around 60 people there.

We did have beautiful weather for the event in Independence. At least 134 people showed up for that talk. They were spilling out of all three doors into the community room, and several people actually sat in the corner underneath the coat rack. Two Amish people came to the talk -- an unmarried woman and her father. We were talking after the event. I told them I had cousins in Cashton, Wisconsin and I remembered that the Cashton community was made up of people from Geauga County, Ohio, and one from Iowa. They said that the Amish who moved to Cashton actually came out of their community. Then the woman said, "Who are your cousins?" I told her who they were, and she said, Gid's Monroe (one of my cousins who lived at that farm in Wisconsin where I mentioned my aunt and uncle raised fifteen children) was married to her cousin. The people standing around were amazed at the connection, but these are the kinds of things those of us who grew up Amish take for granted -- we know there is a connection somewhere, if we talk long enough to find it.

We had two hosts in Independence -- Kara Vance and Laura Blaker. They were delightful to work with, and were very pleased to have such a big turnout. At the end of the night they took a great deal of pleasure in knowing that David and I broke our record for how many books we sold at a single event. Kara has a very dry sense of humor, and with a straight face she said to Laura, "How are you going to fall asleep tonight with that smile on your face?" Maybe that is Iowa humor, but I found that a funny thing to say. Some people have all the good lines!

David and I did get a chance to see some of Iowa. We were amazed at how many cornfields there were in the state. Many stretched for as far as the eye can see. Below are several scenes we took in that day.

Such beauty!

Like many Amish communities, the one in Kalona must not allow rubber tires.

What a nifty way to keep the grass down on the roadsides.

Nice view!

Curious little goats! Now I'm curious -- why are most of their ears missing?

Take your pick -- left or right. I love crossroads. There are so many possibilities either way...

This is such a typical Amish farm, complete with the martin house (birds).

Another view I cannot get enough of...

And another. The clouds were so beautiful that day.

Our country is just so big and there are so many beautiful places. Have you traveled to many different states? Which is your favorite?

Minnesota Nice

2011-11-03T15:34:00.000-07:00

Neither David nor I had ever been to Minnesota, so we were both looking forward to stopping there on our book tour. We drove into Minnesota from LaCrosse, Wisconsin, as I mentioned in my earlier post.

I spoke at two venues in Minnesota, one in Owatonna, the other in Spring Grove. On our way to Owatonna, we saw a sunset that I really wanted to get photos of, so David was kind enough to stop. Here is a shot of that sunset:

This looks like "Big Sky Country" to me, even though Minnesota is not known as such.

A group of ninety-five people showed up in Owatonna with people from all walks of life. It used to be that most of my audiences were made up of women, but there were at least a third men in this group, which was wonderful. To see photos of that event, you can click here.

We got a chance to drive around Amish farms and we took several pictures. These were taken around Harmony, Minnesota.

The event at Spring Grove was held in the theater across the street from the library. We arrived early to set up. When I saw how big the theater was, I did not think we'd fill the place, especially when I found out that it seats 204 people. Dawn Johnson, Director of the Spring Grove Library, organized this event. She, David, and I drove east to the next town to have dinner before the talk. When we drove back into Spring Grove, we saw cars lining both sides of the street:

Dawn was so excited, she grabbed onto my arm and just kept saying, "This is for us! This is us! I can't believe it -- this is for us!

People kept coming, and kept on coming, young, old, and in between. There were about two seats in the middle of each row that were empty, and the rest of the theater was pretty full. The little town of Spring Grove (population in 2009 was just over 1,200 people) broke a record for my book talks, which had been set at 160 from my first one at the Fletcher Free Library in Burlington, Vermont. Spring Grove brought out 176 people. It is a gratifying feeling to have that many people interested in my talk.

This was the second time an Amish person came to one of my talks. She was with a cousin who is former Amish. At the end of the evening, we took photos of a group of us:

Dawn, the dynamite promoter, is on the far left.

I LOVED Minnesota. Now I know what people mean by "Minnesota nice" -- the people there are so open and friendly. If I didn't know how brutal the winters are in Minnesota, I could easily make myself at home in Rochester, Minnesota -- it's just about the right size and has everything one needs. In many ways, it reminded me of Burlington, Vermont, but without Lake Champlain. I hope I get to go back someday.

Have you ever been to Minnesota? If so, what parts? Did you like your stay there?

A View from a West Window...

2011-10-31T11:51:00.000-07:00

Our household is one of more than 2 million that were without electricity (some still are). When I heard that we were going to get hit with a snowstorm, my first reaction was, "A snowstorm! in October?" I was in complete denial and so I didn't go grocery shopping.

On Saturday night we lost our electricity. By then the snow was about six inches deep and still coming down hard. Bushes and trees were bent over with the weight of the snow. David had found the candles and flashlights (he was not in such deep denial as I was), so we used those to navigate our way to the bathroom and then to bed.

Yesterday morning dawned bright and sunny, but still no electricity. When we looked out our west window, we saw this:

The town had planted these trees next to the war memorial before we moved here. They've gained a lot of height in the three years we've been here. It looks like they are lost, with the trunks twisted and broken.

The house held its heat overnight pretty well. We opened all the shades for the solar gain. The temperature did not go below 65 in here yesterday, so we felt very fortunate. We are on town water and we have an insulated hot water tank, so we had still had access to both cold and hot water.

We received a warning in the morning from our town to stay off the roads (oh yes, we keep one corded phone in the house for occasions like this). I did things I've been putting off for a while. I sorted through all the paperwork on my desk (what a great feeling!), I changed the sheets on the bed in the guest room, I prepared everything I plan to bring to my book talk tomorrow evening (provided the library has electricity by then--they don't right now), and I washed dishes the Amish way (you know, with two pans of water, one for washing one for rinsing) and I cleaned the counters.

About mid-afternoon we were feeling rather hungry, so we decided to go to Hadley to see if we could get something to eat at our favorite little restaurant. Closed. So we went to Trader Joes. Closed. Then we went to Atkins Market. Closed. And all along the way, we saw huge branches dangling on the high wires, down trees, and branches littering the snowy landscape. In one case, we saw a tree had fallen on a car. The car's roof was completely crushed. We thought the car looked totaled. We were heading back home, to see what we could find in our cupboards, when I asked David to go to the large supermarket and just see. We drove up and noticed the store was dark, but people were coming out with bags of groceries. So we went in, and they had just enough light in in the store so we could see what we were buying. People were milling about in the store. Everyone looked as disoriented as we felt, but everyone was polite and there wasn't the frantic pace that one usually sees in such big supermarkets -- in fact it felt quite laid back. They must have had a generator running because the cash registers were working. Everyone seemed very patient with the long lines. It really makes me wonder: if we didn't have so many things we want to do, would our lives slow down?

When we got home, we ate another cold meal. David then went outside and dug a hole and put in a permanent mailbox, instead of the "temporary" one stuck into an orange five-gallon bucket that's been there for three years. I am so happy to have this new mailbox! Our goal was to have it in before the snow flies -- we almost made it!

When the sun went down, we snuggled on the sofa to keep one another warm and by the light of the candles we talked about days gone by.

In the middle of the night, I awoke and realized our electricity had come on. This morning we are doing all the things we couldn't without electricity -- laundry, emailing, blogging, making Christmas ornaments, and make warm meals. And our solar panels are making electricity again. (We have grid-tied system, so when the power goes out, we cannot use the power generated by the sun.)

Just as I am about to finish this post, we just received another message from the town, saying that much of our town is still without electricity and will be for the next three days. They have a shelter set up in the school gym. They are strongly advising families to not go trick-or-treating tonight.

We had this happen once before during an ice storm when we lived in Vermont -- we got our power back before many others did. We invited friends to come over and take showers and have a warm breakfast with us. They did -- and as each family got their electricity back, they retreated back into their homes. I missed the Amish-like community atmosphere that had been created for those few short days.

It's time to open our doors to those who don't have electricity. They may crave a warm shower, something warm to eat, or just a warm place to visit.

Did you lose your electricity during the storm? If so, what did you do that you wouldn't have otherwise? What did you not do that you would have otherwise?

Chicago and Views from Cashton, Wisconsin

2011-10-27T12:13:00.000-07:00

On our Midwest trip, David and I traveled from Indiana to Wisconsin right through Chicago. There is something about traveling through big cities that make me nervous, but I am fortunate to have David for a traveling partner, for he doesn't mind doing the hard driving. I took some shots from the car window as we were stopped in traffic in Chicago. Here is one of them.

Several hours later, we got off Interstate 90 and drove south to Cashton, Wisconsin. I know some of the Amish there -- in fact, I am probably related to more people there than I know. I'd visited this community as an Amish person twice. It was very different this time, especially because I was taking pictures of the countryside. Taking pictures is such a symbol of looking in from outside, and that is clearly what I was doing this time. Nonetheless, I was reminded of how beautiful the countryside is there. It's also very rural -- remote even -- and I am a people person, so I would not want to live there, especially in winter. I know their winters are pretty brutal.

Without further ado, here are some shots of the countryside and homesteads. Enjoy.

Photo 1

Photo 2

Photo 3

Photo 4

Photo 5

Photo 6

Photo 7

Photo 8

Photo 9

Photo 10

As you can see, we were taking these photos in the late afternoon light. By the time we got to LaCrosse, where we crossed over the Mississippi River into Minnesota, it was twilight -- too late to see the much or to take photos. I saw enough of it to know it has to be breathtakingly beautiful. I hope I get back there someday and get to see it during the day. This was the first time I crossed the Mississippi, other than flying over it. Pretty exciting!

I have three questions for you:

1. Do you have a favorite of these photos?

2. Do these images make you want to travel to see this area in Wisconsin?

3. One of these homesteads is where my uncle and aunt live and where fifteen of my first cousins lived until they got married. Do you want to take a wild guess which homestead is theirs?

Introducing Vintage Village Christmas Ornaments

2011-10-26T21:52:00.000-07:00

David has posted some new designs on his blog -- or should I say the same designs, but he is now also offering them as Christmas ornaments. You can click here to visit his blog.

And here is a sneak preview:

Aren't they adorable? I feel very honored that for the last 25 years, David's little creations have been in our collection of Christmas ornaments. They are my favorites. He hasn't made any in the last 25 years until this year, so I'm very excited that we can now add some to our collection.

If you'd like to place an order, you can click here.

I'll be back soon to post more photos of our trip to the Midwest.

Abuse -- The Real Issue

2011-10-24T08:10:00.000-07:00

I first heard the news about the Amish beard-cutting when I was in Grabill, Indiana. One of the people in the audience gave me a newspaper clipping. I was not surprised that it originated from the Bergholz, Ohio group led by Sam Mullet, because I'd heard about his fanaticism before. I figured that people's attention spans are short, so I thought it would blow over. Yesterday I checked the internet, and realized this story is as much in the news as the shooting at Nickel Mines was five years ago.

You can read Ira Wagler's take on this issue here: "Amish" Thugs; The Bergholz Gang. While I agree that this behavior is reprehensible, I don't think it helps to denounce Bishop Sam's Amish validity as Ira has done. In my opinion, this is part of the problem. The Amish way of dealing with deviant behavior is all within the realm of the church because they don't recognize that there is sometimes a psychological basis for this behavior. If the person "repents" he makes a public confession in church, which means no one may never speak of it again. This tends to create a shroud of secrecy around the wrongs and turns the issues underground, only to resurface later. This process also ignores the needs of the victims. If the person doesn't "repent" or follow the instructions of the church elders, the only response the Amish have is to excommunicate that person -- in other words, drive them away and make them feel they don't belong.

Most of the Amish (and former Amish) I know in Holmes County think of Geauga County as backward. Ira mentioned that he talked to his Amish friends in Holmes County to get the scoop on Bishop Sam. It seems he may have adopted their point of view when he pointed out the fact that Bishop Sam emerged out of Geauga County. I quote:

Bishop Sam emerged from the strict plain Amish settlement in Geauga County, up near Cleveland. The Geauga Amish have always had an unsavory reputation. Just a notch above the Swartzentrubers. “Low” Amish. Uncouth. Rough. Hard core, far more so than the mad bishop who tormented me all those years ago. Their laughter is hard and mirthless. Many drink. Or smoke. Or both. And their youth practice bed courtship. All the bad stuff my father raged against in his writings, all his life. That’s Geauga.

From what I can tell from Ira's post, Sam Mullet was ordained as minister and then as bishop in Holmes County (actually Wayne County, but the two counties are often called the Holmes County community). Whether he was ordained in Geauga or Holmes doesn't really matter. I don't know of any Amish who "discipline" their members in other ways than what I mentioned above (except if we count Bishop Sam, who allegedly uses all kinds of bizarre physical punishment). My point is, though, that none of the Amish I know have a way of dealing with sociopaths or sadists among them who commit great evils. They don't usually turn to the law. So, a fanatic can be spawned out of any Amish community, whether it's Aylmer, Ontario Canada; Lancaster, Pennsylvania; or Shipshewana, Indiana -- just as one did out of the Geauga and Holmes communities. Until courts, social workers, and other professionals (and the Amish themselves) have a different way of responding to these fanatics, they will be able to do as much damage as Bishop Sam has done before they're stopped. The Amish need to stop hiding from the outside world that atrocities happen in their communities and cooperate with law enforcement. Society needs to be able to deal with the Amish who break the law in the same way they do with anyone else who breaks the law.

Ira Wagler, a self-proclaimed libertarian, wrote that he thinks they should "nail him. Put him away for a while."

My opinion: The hair will grow back on the people who had their hair cut. I am much more concerned about the possibility that the people in the Bergholz community are being physically or sexually abused as was alleged in a report from 2007:

Abdalla also said there are "some very serious allegations" of molestation and attempted rape in that Amish community. The sheriff's department is also investigating the death of a 2-year-old Amish boy who lived in the community. An autopsy on that toddler was never performed though required by law, Abdalla said.

I do not know what became of this investigation, just as I don't know what will become of the current one on the hair cutting incidents. To me, cutting hair from an adult's head is a petty crime compared to abusing children. After all, the adults had the ability to defend themselves, and the children don't. The children in Bergholz are the ones left without advocates, while the world focuses on forced haircuts. In one report an Amish man was quoted as having said that he'd rather be dead than have his beard cut. That is taking Amish martyrdom a bit too far, if you ask me.

I find it interesting that the men in the Amish community had to be violated before the Amish became willing to cooperate with the law to try to stop Sam Mullet and his cronies, yet they were quiet when the allegations were made about the child sexual abuse in 2007. This is interesting, but not particularly surprising -- having lived among the Amish, there is no doubt in my mind where the power lies -- certainly not with the women or the children.

I did a little poking around on the internet and found that Crist S. Mullet is a registered sex offender in Bergholz, Ohio. This doesn't surprise me either. In his description, there is mention that he has scars on both his elbows and his knees. If I were in law enforcement, I would want to know how those came about, especially if he is the son of Bishop Sam Mullet.

Pride and Prejudices among the Amish

2011-10-23T15:00:00.000-07:00

In the community where I grew up, there was a hierarchy of people who were "gut oh tzene" (well-regarded) and those who were not and everyone in between. It was nearly impossible to move up in the hierarchy, but that did not keep people from trying. In their attempts at having themselves look better, people looked down at those of us lowest in the community. At some point I realized that there was nothing I could do to have people think better of me, because it had to do with my father not being able to function as Amish fathers "should." Because they didn't recognize mitigating factors, such as mental illness for what it was and were not able to deal with it, they seemed to think they could shame my father out of being the way he was. This was the Amish way. It's not that they excluded my father from the community gatherings, but they had a way of including him and excluding him at the same time. This system of approval and disapproval works to keep most people in line. But not for everyone.

Now that I've been out of the Amish for more than thirty years and I'm visiting different Amish communities and listening to various perspectives, I realize that this same hierarchy exists in and among the diverse Amish communities. For example, when David and I were in Grabill, Indiana, we had lunch at an Amish home, where they had opened part of their home as a restaurant. I seemed to remember that the Amish in Grabill are the Swiss Amish, but I also knew that Berne, Indiana was Swiss. So, I asked the Amish woman in charge how far away Berne was, and she said it was forty miles. I asked if the Amish in Berne were different than the Amish in Grabill. She said, "Oh yes, they are very different. They are much more -- well, primitive."

I asked for clarification on that, and said that they are much more conservative -- their farms were not well kept and they didn't believe in having anything hanging on their walls. She said that if they came and saw that she was running a restaurant, they would think she was very liberal. During the conversation, she mentioned that the Berne community was Swiss. I asked if the Grabill Amish were Swiss, and she said they weren't, but later she mentioned her mother was Swiss.

David and I were now curious. We drove around both communities before going back to Goshen for the night. We made observations: both communities had well-kept farms; both drove open-topped buggies; one community seems to allow bicycles, the other scooters; the dress varied some in each community. Can you tell which of these pictures were taken in Grabill and which were taken in Berne?

Or which of these two?

Notice this horse's feet are not touching the ground: I couldn't have caught him airborne if I'd tried, but here it is.

And one more chance:

Perhaps a person can tell the difference between one community and the other, especially with a closer look than driving around one afternoon and taking pictures. But that is actually not what I want to get at. Rather, what I wonder is why do the Amish people have such a need to put others down in an attempt to validate their own position, whether that is from one family to another within a community, or from one community to another? Now, as we "study" the Amish, we even have names for the Swartzentrubers and other Amish who don't measure up -- the term is "low" Amish.

I did not know until long after I'd left my home community, that the Geauga County community where I grew up, was and is looked down upon. When I was reading Ira Wagler's take on the Amish haircut attacks when I was reminded of this again. I quote:

Bishop Sam emerged from the strict plain Amish settlement in Geauga County, up near Cleveland. The Geauga Amish have always had an unsavory reputation. Just a notch above the Swartzentrubers. “Low” Amish. Uncouth. Rough. Hard core, far more so than the mad bishop who tormented me all those years ago. Their laughter is hard and mirthless. Many drink. Or smoke. Or both. And their youth practice bed courtship. All the bad stuff my father raged against in his writings, all his life. That’s Geauga.

I venture to guess that many Amish communities view the Geauga Amish this way. I find this is a huge generalization. Some individuals who came out of other Amish communities would like to have me join in on this way of thinking, especially people who grew up in Holmes County, Ohio. But no one can tell me that the problems we had in Geauga don't exist in these "high" communities, so the question is this: are these problems as prevalent in other communities as in Geauga? I'd have to be a fly on the wall inside many Amish homes to know the answer to this question and none of us have a way of doing that. But this I believe: by pasting these issues on "others" these Amish groups avoid confronting their own problems.

Scenes from Northern Indiana

2011-10-21T18:42:00.000-07:00

For the first ten years after I left the Amish, I didn't want to go into my home community or any other Amish community. Since then, my inner struggle to come to terms with my Amish past has brought me more peace with the culture. Now, thirty-one years after my final exodus out of the Amish, I find myself drawn to Amish areas. I look for similarities and notice differences from my home community in Geauga County, Ohio. Traveling to various communities in Indiana was no different. Below you will find several photos I took in Northern Indiana, along with comments.

160 people showed up for the talk at Goshen College

The talk at Goshen was wonderful -- very attentive audience and great questions. At some point Ann Hostetler, who had coordinated this event, asked everyone to raise their hands if they were of Amish descent within the last two generations. I was astounded when the majority of hands went up! I was so glad Ann thought to ask that question.

I encountered something in Indiana that I hadn't experienced much before. I had several people of my parents' generation tell me that they were former Amish, and that they were never shunned. Then two people proceeded to let me know that my experiences are not typical. I felt I had given a fair and balanced viewpoint of my experiences among the Amish, as I tend to do. I also try to convey that this was my experience within my family and my community and that I have no idea how "typical" my experiences were. At least two people were very defensive on behalf of the Amish culture, to the point that they didn't want to hear any criticisms. I encountered at least five people of that age group in that part of Indiana who said the reason they left is for more formal education. One person was not the least bit defensive and explained how there was an exodus out of the Amish in Northern Indiana by quite a few people to achieve higher education during his generation. He claimed that at the time he left, there was only a 57 percent retention rate among the Indiana Amish (according to the Amish Studies website, the current overall retention rate is around 85 percent, though I don't know what Northern Indiana's is by itself.) I found this fascinating, because when I was growing up, my parents' generation had us young people thinking that with each generation, more of our heritage or adherence to Amish principles are eroding. As I learn more about the various Amish communities, it seems that there have been times that the Amish Ordnung was more lenient and somewhere along the way some communities became stricter. Very interesting!

When former Amish people romanticize the Amish to the extent I just described, my obvious question is, "Then why did you leave?" And whether that reason is for more education, because they had a conversion experience, or that they wanted more freedom, it seems some of these people think theirs is the only valid reason for leaving and they become staunch defenders of the faith. I've had several Amish people in my audiences, none of whom were defensive and yet several of the former Amish I encountered in Indiana were. Again: very interesting!

You are probably ready to just scroll down to the pictures... so here they are!

Autumn in Shipshewana, Indiana

These buggies are shaped differently than in my home community. In Northern Indiana, the Amish have licenses on their buggies. I don't know what went into that decision, but I cannot imagine that it was something the Amish volunteered to do. Though the Amish in this area are more lenient on many rules, I find it interesting that their buggies are not more visible at night, especially from behind -- those two red lights or reflectors are not much. In Geauga County the Amish have many lights and reflectors, so that they can be seen from a long way away, at least in the flat areas.

This horse seems to be posing -- in Geauga County the horses are more modest.

Profile shot in Shipshewana, Indiana

Bicycles were not allowed in my home community. I often wonder if I'd have left if we had been allowed to have them.

No, this horse and buggy did not travel all the way to Vermont, though that tree looks like it belongs there.

Announcing the Winner

2011-10-20T09:11:00.000-07:00

I would like to announce the winner of the copy of "Why I Left the Amish." When I put all the names together, I had 33 names for David to choose from... 33 is my favorite number. (There were two duplicate posts by the same person, making it 33 instead of 35.

So, without further ado, I would like to announce Carol N. Wong as the winner of a copy of my memoir "Why I Left the Amish." Carol, I see that you have left your email address (very handy), so I'll be emailing you shortly for your address.

Congratulations, Carol!

To all who faithfully commented on my blog during my absence -- thank you! Two weeks ago, I was at a library in Indiana, responding to a whole string of comments here and somehow I lost them. Darn! Then, minutes later, I had an accident that made my book tour a lot more hectic. I was walking along on a sidewalk, when my toe caught in the lip of the sidewalk, and I fell, face forward, so quickly I didn't have time to put my hands out. That landed me in emergency care, getting my face stitched up instead of driving to Ida, Michigan, where I had a book talk scheduled. I had stitches put in my forehead and on the bridge of my nose. I covered the stitches with Band-Aids and I ended up with dark purple bruises around my eyes that I had to explain during each of my subsequent book talks.

This is all to say that I didn't get back to rewriting those comments, but I wanted to let you know I appreciate them all the same. I will answer the questions soon, though I will first be writing posts about the different Amish communities we visited during this trip. I will be sharing photos in each post.

Two weeks away from home is a long time, we found out. We are now on vacation in our own home. So nice! The sun is peeping out from between fluffy white clouds after a day and a half of rain as I look out over the town of Sunderland. The trees have lost most of their leaves, though there are some that remain colorful. We missed most of the foliage here in Massachusetts by being away for more than two weeks.

Have a wonderful weekend, all, and I'll be back soon.

A Drawing for a Book Giveaway

2011-10-03T20:22:00.000-07:00

I am not going to be able to post for a while, until I return from my Midwest Trip. In the meantime, I decided to do a giveaway of my book, along with one of my fabric reusable gift bags. So, even if you already have a copy of my book, this could make a nice gift for someone else. If you are interested in having your name entered, simply leave a question or comment on my blog, and please be clear whether you want your name entered. If you have any questions about my life, or about the Amish culture, I'll be happy to answer them in future posts.

I look forward to your comments and questions and I'll post again, just as soon as I get back East.

Oh, and just for fun... I'm going to give away a second book if my blog hits total 100,000 before I return home.

Happy Autumn!

Autumn Memories

2011-09-27T11:31:00.000-07:00

I've always loved autumn. Perhaps some of that comes from my childhood memories of the time when summer would change into autumn. I still notice the shift: the days are shorter, the nights cooler, the air gets that fresh and nutty smell, and I change what I cook to accommodate the autumn harvests of apples, pumpkins, winter squash and root vegetables -- new potatoes, parsnips, beets, and sweet potatoes.

This time of the year also brings a certain nostalgia for what autumn would bring in my childhood. I remember Mem had been sewing "school clothes" for us all summer, so that on the first day of school, I could choose from two or three new dresses that had been ironed and hung in the closet, ready to wear to school. I loved to sit at my own desk at school and pull out clean sheets of lined paper and open the books that had been stored in the entrance of the schoolhouse all summer -- each page held a new lesson -- something new for me to learn. At recess I ran with the other children, playing Kick-the-can, Prisoners Base, Softball, or Freeze Tag until the schoolbell rang and we resumed our lessons.

I loved to go into the woods to gather hickory nuts and snip bunches of elderberries off the bushes by their stems as the blue jays screamed out their protest that we were taking their food; walk deep into the woods and find the brightest and most colorful autumn leaves and take them home and iron them between waxed paper or dunk them into melted paraffin; find a big acorn cap and place my thumbs just so and then blow into it to make a loud, shrill whistle that made the squirrels scamper up the trunks of large oaks; try to catch the leaves that fluttered down from the tall maples, beeches, and oaks surrounding our house; make piles of leaves that was taller than me and then bury my siblings in that pile, or have them bury me; or sit quietly in the "autumn woods" by a spring and observe the little birds and creatures of the forest.

Columnist Doug Larson wrote, "Nostalgia is a file that removes the edges from the good old days." Perhaps he's right. But that also means we have some good memories that we want to separate from the rest. And once in a while I am grateful for these good memories, even if I have to file the edges.

What memories do you have of autumn? What is your favorite season?

The woods behind these horses is where we used to gather hickory nuts and elderberries.

P.S. I've had a fairly hectic travel schedule, which is not letting up anytime soon. I will post again as soon as I can. I appreciate your visits and comments in the meantime.

A Hutterite Story

2011-09-11T20:18:00.000-07:00

It was several years after I left the Amish that I first heard about Hutterites through a magazine article. At the time I was astonished that there could be a third branch of Anabaptists that I had never heard about during my 23 years of living in an Amish community. (The other two are Amish and Mennonites). Since then I have read more articles about Hutterites, but I was always left wanting for more information, which left an air of mystery and intrigue around them -- I imagine much the same way most people feel about the Amish. Except maybe even more so, for unlike the Amish, the Hutterites live on cloistered colonies, which does not include anyone who is not Hutterite. After learning about this culture, I wished I knew someone who grew up on a Hutterite colony, or at least that I'd have the opportunity to read a story by a Hutterite.

I found just such a story when I recently read I Am Hutterite by Mary-Ann Kirkby. In this beautifully rendered story, she serves her readers a slice of life on the colony from her perspective of a young child after her mother had given birth to a younger sibling:

As soon as she arrived home from the hospital, Mother entered die Wuchen, a six-week period of special treatment extended to women after the birth of each child. This included a nine-week exemption from colony duty. Peterana was the cook for nursing mothers, and she delivered delicacies to our house every day. Rich foods like Nukkela Suppen (buttery dumplings), waffles soaked in whiskey, and plump cuts of chicken were carried over from the community kitchen in bowls and stainless-steel pails. While the rest of the colony ate regular fare at the long tables in the community kitchen, Mother had the privilege of inviting family and friends to dine with her at home. Most often, her guest of choice was my father.

Mary-Ann Kirkby is a gifted storyteller. I am with her in Kindergarten, which she started, as all other Hutterite children at age two and a half, when they began their religious training. She describes the soft, fresh buns after dipping them into Schmond Wacken (cream) with generous dollops of jam that she enjoyed for breakfast, and the stories, songs and games she participated in. I am with her when she and the other children went on outings to see the geese or visit the colony gardens. I feel as though her memories and mine meld when she describes opening the pods in the pea patch and pulling baby carrots from the ground.

Kirkby's childhood was as nearly idyllic as a child's can be. I love the way she sets the background for the day her life was to change forever when she was ten years old:

Across the western sky, the rich red, orange, and gold tones of a spectacular Manitoba sunset were bringing the soft summer day to a close. We felt spoiled by its beauty in Fairholme, for over and over again, even in the harshest of winters, we were treated to its splendor. Against this magic expanse of space, I was playing dodgeball with the children from the Essenschul. We all had the giggles, and our laughter infected a group of adults who had come to watch... I, as wide as was tall, kept eluding the ball....

Above the merriment, a voice pierced the warm air...

I won't spoil the story, but I will say that life on the colony was less than idyllic for Mary-Ann's father. And here is where I actually identify with Mary-Ann's parents for the tough choice they had to make, even though I know that life for Mary-Ann and her siblings was about to change... and not necessarily for the better.

I Am Hutterite is a wonderfully sensual story about Hutterite life, which does exactly what I thought such a story would... it brings Hutterites down to earth and puts a human face on them.

The same way that Kirkby's childhood story is nearly idyllic, so is this book nearly perfect. But I have three criticisms.

1. There is a subtitle on this book, "The fascinating true story of a young woman's journey to reclaim her heritage." There was only a very small portion of Kirkby's story that pertained to this, so I feel like this subtitle is not very accurate. And to that end, I wonder if Kirkby isn't trying to have it both ways... claim she is Hutterite, while still enjoying the personal freedom she would have to sacrifice if she were to actually rejoin life on the colony. Perhaps it comes of those good memories of her Hutterite childhood.

2. I love the first 198 pages of this book, but then Kirkby "summarizes" the rest of her story and wraps up loose ends much too quickly. I would have preferred that she save this part of her story for a sequel, so that she could tell the story in the same sensual details with which she had told her story thus far.

3. I read somewhere on Kirkby's website that she learned the art of telling stories from life on the colony. I felt I missed something, because I would have loved to have "been there" during a story-telling session.

Perhaps Kirkby did learn how to fashion a good story from her people, but I cannot believe that all her talent comes from observing the masters -- I am willing to bet that she was born with her gift for storytelling that was then nurtured in her original community. Either way, I am glad she used her talent to bring us the story, I Am Hutterite. It carries an important message about a little-known culture in North America.

Note: The spell checker recognizes "Amish" or "Mennonite," but it doesn't recognize "Hutterite." I know there is much intrigue about foreign "exotic" cultures, but I find it interesting that we in North America don't know the Hutterites well enough to have the name of their culture show up as a valid word in our lexicon.

On the Radio with Mindy Todd

2011-09-05T19:41:00.000-07:00

David and I are on Cape Cod this week, doing six book talks in five days. Tonight we got to our hotel, settled in, and then went out to dinner. On the way there, we turned on the radio and I heard my own voice! This was an interview with Mindy Todd, done on Friday. It was pretty weird, hearing myself as others hear me.

Being interviewed by Mindy Todd was a great pleasure. She had obviously done a careful read of the book. She was very organized with her comments and questions, which makes it easy for someone to follow the story. I had heard other interviews by her and knew that she is very insightful, but I was struck by that again during our interview.

To listen to the interview, you can go here. (Click on my picture on the right.)

And for quick reference, here are the locations for my talks this week:

Tuesday, September 6 -- Vineyard Haven Public Library, (Martha’s Vineyard) Massachusetts at 7:00 PM

Wednesday, September 7 -- Truro Public Library, Truro, Massachusetts at 6:30 PM

Thursday, September 8 -- Dennis Public Library, Dennis Port Massachuestts at 2:00 PM

Thursday, September 8 -- Sturgis Library Barnstable, Massachusetts at 6:30 PM

Friday, September 9 -- Eldredge Public Library, Chatham , Massachusetts at 2:30 PM

Saturday, September 10 -- Woods Hole Public Library, Woods Hole, Massachusetts at 2:00 PM

Liebster Blog

2011-09-04T19:15:00.000-07:00

Life is full right now... David and I are heading to Cape Cod tomorrow. I am delivering five books talks on the Cape, plus one on Martha's Vineyard to make six in five days. More than a little to do...

I appreciate all your good wishes about mending from my bike accident. I am happy to report that I am on the mend. No, I didn't go see a doctor. If I get a stiff neck from this down the road, I will probably go to my chiropractor for an adjustment. So far, so good. Lots of scabs on my leg and elbow, but that means I'm healing.

I've been planning to do a book review all week, but have not gotten to it. I'm sure I won't get to it this week, so I will probably do it a week from today.

However, I would like to thank the Botanist from the "Views from the Bald Patch" for tagging me with the Liebster Blog.

The idea of the Liebster Blog is to thank the person who tagged me and link to that blog, then pass it along to five other bloggers who have fewer than 200 followers. I am tagging the following people:

Katie Troyer from Pinecraft-Sarasota Katie, I LOVE your photos. I hope you enter them into photo contests, for you could easily be a winner! You may want to check out Project 365, which I just heard about today. Tell Laurie Higgins I sent you... she tells me it's a wonderfully creative community.

Rhonda Shrock from "The Natives are Getting Restless." Rhonda, I love your optimistic up-beat parenting style with four boys... I only raised two, and I struggled with being the only female in a house with so much male energy.

Lynn Kimmerle from "Monarch Book Reviews." Lynn, you have an infectious love and enthusiasm for reading, which you pass on to your readers. Thanks!

Rosslyn Elliott from Ink Horn Blue. Rosslyn, I always appreciate your insight, whether it's your blog or comments on mine or others' blogs.

Carolien from Carolien's Stitches and Patches. I love your creativity, Carolien!

I announced a winner -- Kathryn -- for a copy of Ira Wagler's book several weeks ago, and I've not heard from you, Kathryn. I tried to contact you some other way, but I was unable. If you want the book, please send me your address: salomafurlong[at]gmail[dot]com. I will then forward that on to Ira.

Have a wonderful week, everyone. Enjoy the late summer-early autumn days. These are some of my favorites.

A Change of Plans

2011-08-29T19:52:00.000-07:00

Last night after dinner, I had plans... I was going to take a quick spin on my bike with David before it got dark, and then post on my blog. Those plans were suddenly changed. I was just ahead of David coming down over a steep hill when I saw that the pavement was gone from the road in front of me, with a huge dropoff into gravel. I tried braking, but my front tire hit the gravel and skidded and down I went. Thank goodness for my helmet, because otherwise I'm sure I would have had a head injury -- I hit the left side of my head onto the road pretty hard. As it was I untangled myself from the bike (with David's help) and found I had scrapes and bruises, and I was pretty badly shaken, but felt otherwise okay. He went home and got the car and brought my bike and me home. Then we cleaned and dressed my "wounds" for the next few hours. David said it looked like I'd been in battle, when we were done with a patchwork of bandages and Band-Aids on my left arm, left leg, and a toe where I got "road rash."

I am thankful that I feel as well as I do today and that I tend to heal pretty quickly. It could have been a lot worse. And thank goodness for David! I don't know how I would have made it home by myself.

I decided to read in bed, and then before falling asleep, I thought I'd check my email. That's when we lost our electricity. Man -- talk about dark! So David and I collected our candles and read in bed for a while. Just after we had settled into sleep, the lights all came on. We were out of power about three or four hours.

We are not out of the woods yet, however. We live a stone's throw from the Connecticut River, and it is expected to crest tomorrow morning. It is already really high! Tonight David and I were watching YouTube videos of floods in Shelburne Falls, Massachusetts, only about a half hour from where we live. Wow! If you want to see the power of water on the loose, you can watch an example of it here.

Vermont seems to be the surprise in all of this, with all the floods they had. We have many friends there, so our thoughts are with them. And please join us in hoping that the Connecticut doesn't flood. How did you fare in the storm/hurricane?

I will blog again in a few days to post what I'd planned to last night.

Here is a photo of the "Bridge of Flowers" on a calm day in Shelburne Falls, Mass:

Photo from MassLive.com (originally from The Springfield Republican)

Here is a photo of what the Bridge of Flowers looked like yesterday:

Photo from MassLive.com (originally from the Springfield Republican)

I am counting my blessings that we are safe and sound and my prayers and thoughts go out to all who did not fare so well during this powerful storm.

Interviews and Appearances

2011-08-22T18:47:00.000-07:00

This morning I was interviewed on MassAppeal for WWLP, Channel 22 in Springfield, Mass. You can watch the video of it here. This was in preparation for a talk at the Forbes Library this Wednesday evening at 7:30 PM.

This was my television debut, so I was really nervous, which comes through in the video. It was clear that Ashley Kohl, my interviewer had done this many times, for she seemed to be at ease. I hope to do more television interviews in the future, for it was exciting, albeit nerve wracking.

This Friday I will be interviewed by Larry Rifkin for The Talk of the Town on WATR in Waterbury, Connecticut. You'll be able to listen to that here. This is in preparation of my talk at the Whittemore Library in Naugatuck, Connecticut on August 31, which promises to be a well-attended event. John Wiehn, the events coordinator there has been exceedingly committed to getting publicity and building up the event in his community.

On Labor Day, Monday, September 5, my interview with Mindy Todd on The Point will air on Cape Cod. You'll be able to listen to a podcast of that interview here. I have five events scheduled right after Labor Day and with Mindy Todd's intervie, I expect these will be well-attended.

As these interviews become available, I will post them on the Media Events page of my website.

A little about Maine this week: I did a talk at the Scarborough Library on Wednesday evening. The audience was intimate and enthusiastic. We were hosted by a most gracious couple, David and Jean Stewart. We found them through the Mennonite Your Way organization. We really enjoyed talking with them about life in Maine after my library appearance and over breakfast the next morning.

On Thursday evening, I spoke at the Rockland Public Library. When we arrived twenty minutes before the time of the talk, there were already about twenty people there. More and more chairs were brought out, until the room was pretty full. Then, just before I was about to speak, in the door came Eleanor Rothman! She really took me by surprise. She started the Ada Comstock Program at Smith College, and so I always associate her with Massachusetts, and here she was in Rockland, Maine! It was really great to see her.

The final count of people who came to my talk at the Rockland Public Library was 62 people, the biggest audience I've had since May at the Lancaster Public Library. It was fun to be talking to a big audience, though I enjoy the intimate ones as well.

David and I enjoyed our time in Maine. We look forward to all the upcoming events.

Rockland Public Library

Footwashing and Forgiveness

2011-08-21T19:55:00.000-07:00

Susan J. Rheinhardt wrote:

I've been researching the Amish Communion Service. As part of the preparation, do they go to each other and mend broken relationships? I found references to reading the Ordnung and going over the rules, but nothing about making things right with each other. Is the footwashing part of this?

Susan, very good questions. The Amish look at Communion Service differently than one might imagine. The fact that a given congregation is actually having Communion, means that there are no unresolved "church matters." In other words, a Communion Service does not happen, UNTIL all is right. If there is "church trouble," which usually comes of church members disagreeing with the bishop about a church matter, then Communion is "held up" until the matter is resolved. I don't know whether this would include a dispute between two church members. Perhaps there is the threat of withholding communion, which would be enough to make two people mend their fences -- no two people would want to deter Communion, for that is considered a grave thing. Having said that, most resentments in my home community stayed under the surface. The Amish are stoic about many things, and to allow differences to surface would be considered unkind and too temperamental. Because of this stoicism, "church troubles" are usually about the only reason for withholding Communion.

I've described what happened in my home district some years after I left the Amish here.

Even though the Amish may not seek one another out to mend their fences in preparation of Communion, they consider their Communion a symbolic cleansing of the soul. And yes, the ritual of footwashing is a way for Amish church members of being humble with one another, signifying that there is harmony among them. This usually takes place at the very end of the Communion Service.

So, in a way, the act of forgiveness among the Amish is as stoic as the resentments. Without speaking a word and through the act of washing one another's feet, they humble themselves before one another and before God. Isn't this what forgiveness and reconciliation are really all about?

I am often surprised that more Christian churches don't practice footwashing. I actually miss taking part in this ritual.

I've been hearing about a conference that took place in Switzerland in 2003, in which Reformed Church leaders met with Anabaptists to reconcile 500 years after the Anabaptists were being persecuted by the state churches in Switzerland. I understand 800 people gathered at the conference. As part of the process of forgiveness, the Reformed church leaders washed the feet of the Anabaptists who were present. I understand this was a powerful experience for everyone and is described here. I wish I could have been there.

Photo Courtesy of Christianity.com

Announcing the Winner

2011-08-15T14:10:00.000-07:00

I am happy to announce the winner of the giveaway for a copy of Growing up Amish by Ira Wagler -- KATHRYN! Congratulations! I'm sure you will enjoy this well-crafted story. If you'll email me with your address: salomafurlong[at]gmail[dot]com, I will forward it on to Ira.

For those of you who did not win the book, I suggest you visit Amazon, where Growing up Amish costs less than $10.00 -- very affordable. I urge you to buy a copy for yourself, and another for a friend. Ira's book carries an important message, written from the first-ever (in mainstream publishing) former Amish male voice. Growing up Amish is well written, and it demystifies many aspects of Amish culture while conveying what Ira values of his former lifestyle.

Happy reading!

Correction for Date of Drawing

2011-08-11T19:03:00.000-07:00

I wanted to let everyone know that when I said I would do the drawing for the book on Sunday, I was not remembering that I will be away on Sunday. I will be accompanying David to his first craft show in 25 years, this one in Rutland, Vermont. So, I will be doing the drawing the next day, Monday the 15th.

Have a wonderful weekend all. I'll be spending mine in the cool mountains of Vermont!

Photo courtesy of Vermonter.com

Interview with Ira Wagler, author of "Growing up Amish" and Drawing for a Free Copy

2011-08-07T16:50:00.000-07:00

I had the privilege of interviewing Ira Wagler, author of a new memoir: Growing up Amish. Here is that interview:

1. For anyone writing a memoir, there are tough decisions to be made about which experiences to write about and which ones to leave out, especially if it has to do with others’ shortcomings. How did you decide what to include or leave out of your story?

Well, I just wrote and wrote, mostly at night, and let come out what may. Then reworked and edited and reworked and edited. As it was, I submitted 115,000 words in my original manuscript. Tyndale sliced that amount down to 72,000 words. A 40% cut. Then, during the editing process, we went back and forth. I reinserted some scenes I thought were important. We both gave and took a little. I’m very happy with the end result. As with most memoirs, I suspect, the book was as much about what wasn’t written as what was.

Did you allow any family members to read your story before it was published? Why or why not?

Strange that you ask that. During the entire writing process, I kept everything very close to my vest. Never allowed any of my siblings to read any of it. I did contact them often, though, about dates and incidents where I needed a bit more information. After the ARCs came out, Carol Traver of Tyndale asked me if I’d allowed anyone to read the manuscript. She seemed mildly horrified that I had not, and insisted that I send my siblings copies of the ARC. So I did, and it was a good thing. Amazingly, at least to me, they were all supportive, some more so than others. More importantly, they caught a few factual errors that could still be corrected. So it all worked out, and Carol was so right, as she has been, mostly, throughout this process.

Has publishing your memoir changed your relationship with your family members? If so, how?

Mostly, they have been amazingly supportive. All of them commented on how searing it was to return to those days and “relive” those events. They were around me as it was all coming down. Not as involved as I was, of course. It was my life. But they were there, and they can now look back and realize the intense emotional trauma I was going through that had not been visible to them before. That said, there has been a bit of resistance/blowback from some of my siblings who remain Amish. Nothing that will estrange us, though, I think.

There are many powerful moments in your book. One of them is the way you describe the Amish mutual aid system after your brother Titus’s accident — the money that poured in, the buggy that was built to accommodate his wheelchair, the neighbors who came in and took over the farm chores, and so on. You also pointed out what the community was unable to provide. Will you tell our readers what was missing?

Well, I go into a bit of detail. The Amish have an amazing support system when unexpected tragedy strikes. Support for all your physical needs. But for emotional trauma, not so much. There is no language in their system for that. One is expected to bear one’s burdens in silence. And mostly, one does. And so the emotional trauma is never properly faced or really dealt with, and remains buried inside.

I was also struck by Titus’s and Ruth’s commitment to their relationship, in the face of their hardships. How are Titus and Ruth doing today?

They are doing quite well. Titus is a real businessman. He runs a small truss factory with his brother-in-law. A very successful little operation. Back about five or six years ago, he and Ruth adopted two little baby boys, one year apart. Robert and Thomas are full blood brothers. So they are now one active and happy little family. Titus and Ruth are very good parents, I must say.

For me the most powerful scene in the book is when your youngest brother, Nathan, left home. He deliberately walked away in broad daylight. Your mother’s reaction was so dramatic, that it caused you to reflect on why most Amish youth who leave do so in the dark of night. Will you share these reflections?

Chapter 22, where Nathan walks out in broad daylight, contains some of the most brutal scenes I have ever tried to write. It certainly cost the most tears in the writing. Nathan did the manly thing, leaving openly like that. But the cost in emotional trauma probably outweighed the guilt he would have had to deal with, had he just snuck away like I did, and like most such do. That’s why most Amish youth who go out there on their own leave at night. So they don’t have to endure what Nathan endured.

You did something in response to your mother’s anguish that Amish people just don’t do. Will you describe what you did? And where did that impulse to do what you did come from?

Yeah. It was all so intense and heartbreaking. I was watching from off to the side a bit. As he walked into the distance to the road, she was beside herself with the anguish and grief of seeing her youngest child walk away. I approached her, and held her in my arms and tried to comfort her. I can’t really say why I did that. It seemed like the natural human thing to do. It certainly wasn’t anything I had been taught, or that I had ever witnessed in my family before.

I read a statement from you somewhere that you think the romanticized view of the Amish is at its peak and that it will begin to wane. Will you tell us why you believe that?

I’m not sure when it will wane. But I believe we are at the apex of the popularity of “bonnet” fiction. The market has been saturated now for some time, and there are only so many ways bonnet fiction can be written, however inaccurate. It may take some time, even a generation, before bonnet fiction crashes. But it will, because all such things ebb and flow. There is a time and a season for everything. Same will hold true for society’s vastly inflated romantic view of the Amish.

You cause your readers to think about many aspects of life differently. What overall message or messages would you like your readers to come away with after reading your book?

My journey at its core was no different than many coming of age journeys. The one big distinction: it all came out of the backdrop of the Amish culture. From my book, I would like my readers to grasp in some small sense the depths of my despair until I reached out and made my peace with God. And I’d like my readers to realize that the Amish are normal, flawed human beings, as we all are.

Ira has graciously offered an autographed copy of his book for a giveaway. To enter, please leave a question or comment for Ira or me here on my blog and indicate clearly whether you would like for your name to be entered. Next Sunday I will do the drawing. The winner can then be in touch with Ira with the appropriate shipping address.

Also, be sure to visit Ira's blog.

Disclaimer: I am getting no compensation for interviewing Ira Wagler. I bought a copy of his book and read it before being inspired to conduct this interview.

Bantum Roosters, Part III

2011-07-31T09:48:00.000-07:00

Then one summer afternoon I walked towards the woods on my way to pick elderberries. Butterflies flew above the daises, buttercups, and black-eyed susans on both sides of the path. My long dress brushed over the tall grass as I walked through the meadow behind the chicken coop with a peck basket under my arm.

I had just passed the chicken coop when I heard a sound that made me turn around. What I saw made my head prickle from the back of my neck all the way to my forehead. From four separate directions came four bantam roosters all running towards me. They had their heads down and their bodies wiggled back and forth with their wings and feathers puffed out so they looked twice their size and they made their warning guck-guck! Guck-guck! Guck-guck! sounds in their throats. As they came at me I saw their sharp spurs, beaks, and toenails. Hatred glared at me through their beady eyes. I screamed a bloodcurdling scream.

The roosters kept coming.

Mem came running from the house when she heard my scream. She stopped in her tracks right outside the kitchen door, and laughed when she saw my predicament. She nodded her head and said, “Ahh-huhh, ahh-huhh! You deserved this one!” Her large stomach and hefty bosom bounced with each ahh-huhh!

“Helf mich!” (Help me!) I begged. I imagined the roosters’ claws and beaks on my bare legs and feet. I knew that if I tried hitting them with my hands, they would fly at my eyes and peck them.

Mem called for Lizzie to grab a stick and help me out. As soon as the roosters saw her coming they stopped in their tracks and pecked in the dirt and looked at me sideways. Then the biggest one crowed. They all went underneath the chicken coop when Lizzie came closer with her stick.

I had the shakes and my teeth chattered as I walked towards the house. I knew I wouldn’t be chasing roosters anymore. I stayed home and helped Mem can pears instead of picking elderberries that afternoon.

When I think back to the fright those roosters gave me, I realize I learned so much from that experience. Mem was right — I did have that coming to me. This was a natural consequence of me gaining power over the roosters. I learned that it is not only humans who have a desire to seek revenge against cruelty — even creatures with bird-brains have it. It took bird brains to teach me that having power over can shift without warning from one side to the other.

The roosters and I respected one another after that. I left the clothesline props where they belonged and the roosters seemed to know that my lesson had been learned because they left me alone, too.

The End

Next week I plan to post an interview with Ira Wagler, author of Growing up Amish. Ira has kindly offered to provide a copy of his book for a giveaway. So I'll see you next week...

Special Post -- Introducing Vintage Village Designs by David

2011-07-24T21:24:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

I know I said I would only post once a week, but I wanted to let you know that you are in the right place... I gave my blog a bit of a facelift.

I also wanted to introduce you to David's new blog about his miniature building designs in wood. I had done a giveaway a while ago with one of his mini Capes. He now has three other designs made, ready for sale. You can hop on over to his blog and check them out: http://vintagevillagedesignsbydavid.blogspot.com/

Here is a photo of the four designs... there are more details on his blog. As he adds more designs, he will post them. I hope you'll visit his blog. Or you can click here to go to the new page on my website to order.

Bantum Roosters, Part II

2011-07-24T09:54:00.000-07:00

One day I had gone out to get a pail of water from the pump by the barn, when a sound made me look up. One of the roosters was chasing a hen. When he caught up to the hen, she crouched down, and the rooster got on top of her back. I didn’t know this was normal behavior for hens and roosters because anything having to do with the birds and the bees wasn’t talked about in my family. I thought he was chasing the hen to overpower her.

I ran towards the rooster. He got off the hen and she ran away. He stepped sideways and stared at me with his beady eye, then came towards me. The way he looked at me scared me. He looked mean. I told myself he was a lot smaller. But, when he took another step towards me, I ran away.

I was out cleaning the tray from the oilstove a few days later, when Mem told me to go and chase a rooster out of the entrance to the chicken house where we kept the chicken feed -- he had gotten in there and was eating out of the bins. I said, "I don't want to do that, he'll flutter me." Mem said, "He is a lot smaller then you are. Take the tray with you. So I went in there and tried to scare him out, when he flew at my legs and bare feet. I held the tray out to protect my feet, so then he flew at my face. I held the tray in front of my face, then he went after my feet again. I stood there, jerking the tray up and down several times and all of a sudden I dropped the tray and ran. He tackled my back on my way out, so that I felt one of his spurs through my dress. I was shaking in fright when I got to the house. Mem said she was sorry, she didn't think he would do that, but she still made me go out and get the tray, after assuring me he was gone.

One day I was hanging wash on the line when I saw two roosters fighting. They stared into one another’s eyes for a long time with their feathers on their necks sticking straight out. Then both of them flapped their wings at the same time and flew at each other, trying to claw one other with the sharp spurs and to peck each other’s eyes out. I grabbed a clothesline prop and chased them. They stopped fighting and ran away.

I discovered I had power over the mean roosters with my clothesline prop. Over the next several weeks I stopped the roosters from chasing the hens, and from fighting each other. Then I developed a game where I would chase them, to see if I could hit one before he ran underneath the chicken coop. Sometimes I’d turn around and find another rooster coming up behind me. I’d chase him too.

To be continued...

Bantum Roosters, Part I

2011-07-17T18:12:00.000-07:00

The other day, Shirley Showalter had a guest writer on her blog, 100 Memoirs. Britt Kaufmann wrote a mini-memoir on raising chickens that triggered some memories of my own. I thought I would share my own rooster story with you.

On a Sunday afternoon we were eating popcorn and drinking grape juice, when we heard a loud racket. A big pickup truck came bumping in the lane. Mem looked out the window and said, “It’s Norm Beck.” I wonder what he wants. He has chicken crates on the back of his truck. Datt, why don’t you come out with me?”

My sisters, three-year-old Simon, and I followed Mem and Datt. Joe had gone for a walk into the north woods with our dog, Shep. Baby Katherine was sleeping.

Norm drove his pickup through the yard and stopped near the chicken coop by a white tub of geraniums. He switched off the engine and slid out of the driver’s seat, his cane in hand. He stood there and stuck his cane in the ground a few times, like he was trying to find the right place to plant it. Norm was short and stocky. As Mem and Datt approached him, he stood stiff and straight, giving the illusion of being taller than he was.

“Hello, what brings you here today?” Mem asked.

“I was wonderin’ if you would take care of my bantam roosters and hens for me,” Norm said. He emphasized this by thumping his cane on the ground.

“Does this have anything to do with gambling?” Datt asked.

“They are fighters. But, you wouldn’t have to do nothin’ for that. I’d come pick ‘em up when I need ‘em for a fight,” Norm said, thumping the ground with his cane for emphasis on the last words of his sentences.

“You know the Amish rule of not doing business on a Sunday,” Mem said.

“Welp…” Norm took off his engineer’s cap, scratched the top of his bald head, then replaced the cap. “Can’t you at least tell me if you’re interested or not, so I don’t have to come back for nothin’ if you decide not to?”

“Since it has to do with gambling, we are not interested,” Datt said.

Norm said in a loud voice, “Well, the way I (thump) see it, God put these roosters here on this earth to fight. I am providing them with the opportunity to do just that!” (Thump).

“We couldn’t take them today anyway, since it’s Sunday,” Mem said.

“But, I thought (thump) you folks could use the money.”

The smell of chicken manure burned my throat. Mem turned to me and said in Amish, “Go see if Baby is awake.” I knew Mem and Datt were strong in their beliefs and that they would send Norm away.

But when Norm drove his pickup out our lane, leaving Mem and Datt in a thick cloud of smoke and dust, his chicken crates were empty. Four pairs of bantam roosters and hens pecked in the grass by the chicken yard. The roosters eyed Mem and Datt sideways. Then one of them strutted over to the far end of the chicken coop and crowed, long and loud. Another rooster ran towards him with his wings out and the first one ducked underneath the chicken coop. Norm had demanded they be allowed to run around outside; otherwise the roosters would kill each other.

To be continued...

An Announcement...

2011-07-17T16:30:00.000-07:00

In my last post I asked how you manage your "screen time" as I contemplated how to bring my life into better balance. I find I have a screen in front of me way too many hours each day. I've looked at ways in which I might cut back.

As we all know, blogging takes time. There is the writing of one's own, and then there is reading other people's blogs, too. I rarely have time to do the latter, so I have decided to come up with a schedule for posting my blogs. I will keep to one post per week, which will be each Sunday, unless I'm traveling.

Later on this evening, I will post the beginning of a story, but first I am going to take a bike ride with David on this fine evening.

Be back soon.

How Do You Do It?

2011-07-13T10:56:00.000-07:00

Lost time is never found again. ~ Benjamin Franklin

There are so many ways to describe what we do with time: we spend time or save time; we have time or we don't; we are out of time or in time; we find time or we lose time; we give time or take time; we use time or plan time; we waste time or cut back on time; and perhaps this is the best of all: we make time.

Just how do we make something that we don't even know exists? Physicists are still coming up with theories about what time actually is (or isn't), yet we set our habits according to the clock, days of the week, month, or year.

So, theories aside, this is the existence we know, and unless we are prisoners, we get to choose how to spend our time, from moment to moment. For me it comes down to what to do in the present. Of course we have obligations we have to attend to, but we at least have a choice about the sequence in which we do these and how we mix the things we enjoy doing with those we don't.

Last night I logged onto my Twitter account, which I hadn't maintained for four months. I felt like I had abandoned a fledgling bird or something. And then several questions came to me that I will pose to you all. With all the choices of social media we have, how do you have time for it all? How do you decide when to do Facebook, post something on your blog or website, check your text messages or your email, IM your friends, surf the Internet, watch television, or read the latest novel on your eReader? Do you do all of these, or do you choose which of these to maintain and which not to?

Imagine this: five new college graduates sitting by a swimming pool, each with a laptop in front of him. The kicker here is that they were all sending messages to one another! This was a real-life situation at a get-together during the recent holiday.

This is in such contrast to the Amish life I grew up in. At the same time I am sitting in front of this computer, my cousin might be driving a horse and buggy to her sister's to visit for the day. I am wondering whether this is one of the reasons why the Amish still have such a close-knit community. Because they have fewer distractions, they have more time to interact with one another. And we wonder how it is that they have such a sense of community that the rest of us can only envy. While we visit our virtual friends online, the Amish are still visiting one another in person.

So I have several questions about this: how many hours a day do you spend doing any, some, or all of the above-mentioned things?

The reason I ask is because I don't do Facebook, IMing, text messaging, watch television, or read my books on an electronic device, and I still have a screen in front of my face way too many hours in a day. While I am contemplating more balance in my life, I will go do my laundry and pay my bills. Maybe I will create time to do the things I like after that -- maybe David and I can sit in our living room and enjoy tea and conversation after an evening bike ride.

So how do you maintain balance in your life?

Putting Food By - Amish and English Style

2011-07-09T15:28:00.000-07:00

Several times during my book talks, I've had someone ask what a typical day was like when I was growing up. I can never give a straightforward answer because there isn't one. It depended upon what season of the year it was, what day of the week, and what needed to be done. I remember vividly that in July we did lots of canning for the winter. This was of course accomplished along with the daily chores of the morning work (making beds, doing breakfast dishes, and sweeping floors) and making three meals a day and doing dishes.

We had a summer canning cycle, usually starting with canning peas in June. We sometimes canned bing cherries around that time, too. They were so good, fresh or canned, and it seemed we could not get enough of them. They were easy to can, too. We'd also canned strawberries and make strawberry jam. Then fairly soon the beans would ripen and we'd can those. The beans were unending, it seemed. Bushels of them were packed into jars and then processed. By the time the jars of beans were cooked for three hours they no longer resembled the fresh beans we'd picked, snapped, and canned. I hated canned string beans with a passion. To this day, I cannot eat canned beans. (Ditto on canned peas.) We'd also pickle cucumbers sometime in July. Mem's sweet pickles were scrumptious. Sometimes she'd start out with several crocks of pickles soaking in the brine for nine days, and end up with a lot less to can when the time came. I have to admit, I was one of the culprits. I don't think Mem minded, though she would comment when she canned them that she thought she had lots more.

Soon after beans came time to can corn and tomatoes. Around that time, we'd also get bushels of peaches and pick blackberries to can. Mem would make pickle and corn relish, which would take several kinds of veggies. She was pretty good at planning the garden so these would ripen at the same time. She'd also make vegetable soup and can it. Again, the veggies were pretty overcooked by the time we ate them. I was in my late teens before I liked tomatoes, which was what Mem used for stock for the soup, so I was not a fan of her vegetable soup.

Just as summer would be turning into autumn, we'd get several bushels of pears. We used to spread them out on newspapers on one layer for them to ripen. Each day, we would take the ones that had ripened and can them, until they were all done. Around that time we would pick blackberries and elderberries. In a typical summer, we'd can between 50 and 70 quarts of blackberries. Mem's elderberry jelly was to die for, especially on the days she made fresh bread to go with it.

In September and October, we were winding down with the canning, though when Datt worked at an orchard, we used to put up many jars of applesauce. When we still had our apple peeler, Mem used to make the chunky kind, but then after the peeler broke and could not be replaced, we used a food mill. My favorite way to eat the applesauce was when we put a layer of whipped cream over the top of a bowl of it. Perhaps that is why I like mixing my homemade applesauce with vanilla yogurt now.

My life is quite different now than it was then, so I rarely stop from doing all things book and now helping David get his business resurrected to put any food by. Today was an exception. I had bought a box of local strawberries for making jam. Every year I make a supply for the winter, and to give away as gifts. I LOVE strawberry freezer jam, which is something we rarely had when I was growing up. We could only make as much as we could eat without freezing it, which was about one batch per season. Now I have the option of putting up as many jars as can fit into my freezer, so I take advantage of that.

Freezer jam is the kind in which one doesn't cook the strawberries, which is why it tastes so good. I use the recipe that comes in each box of fruit pectin (I've used both Sure-Jell and Ball brands), which is so easy. Wash, stem, and mash the strawberries, add sugar and let sit while you ready the jars, cook the pectin for one minute, then stir into the strawberries and sugar for three minutes, and you are ready to dip it into the jars. It is that simple! I leave mine out overnight, before putting them in the freezer.

Excuse me, but I think I will go have a sample of that strawberry jam. I'm hungry!

And the New Winner Is...

2011-07-05T19:31:00.000-07:00

Given that Deb from "What's In My Attic" has just requested not to be the winner (sorry, Deb, I should have honored your request), it looks like Patricia is the next clear winner. Carolien, you asked not to be entered, and Sprouting Acorn, your answer wasn't clearly all of them, so I need to give the prize to Patricia from "Simple Pleasures." So, Patricia, if you could please send me your mailing address, I will send you the mini Cape.

David is currently working on making six mini designs (to be announced very soon) that will be for sale, which means this is not your last chance of owning his handcrafted miniatures. We will also offer more giveaways in the future. Stay tuned...

And the Answer Is....

2011-07-04T20:41:00.000-07:00

The answer to the contest is that all of the photos were taken of Amish homes/farms, which means Deb from What's in My Attic is the official winner because she was the first to guess it correctly, though Carolien and Madge also guessed correctly, and "Sprouting Acorn" was on the right track. Deb, if you will please email me at [salomafurlong(at)gmail(dot)com] with your mailing address, I will be happy to send you the mini Cape. Keep your eye out for more giveaways, for David will offer more designs in the future.

I actually want to make a point with these photos, which Sharon Marie picked up on when she mentioned that she was starting to think in stereotypes. This was an exercise to demonstrate how we cannot generalize about Amish farms any more than we can about Amish carpenters and their work. Many people have images of well-kept Amish farms. While most of them are indeed well-kept, they are by no means all. I don’t think the Amish should be lumped together whether it’s in an unfavorable light or a favorable one. Some Amish individuals I know have gotten used to being catered to — whether they are allowed to go to the front of the line in a restaurant, being driven around at no cost to them, or being exempt from laws the rest of us must abide by. To favor a group of people because of their religion or ethnicity is as prejudiced as its opposite. The Amish (or any other group, for that matter) should not be allowed to hide behind their religion any more than we should lose respect and trust for all Amish because of one person's misdeeds, as in the case of Monroe Beachy.

A Contest

2011-07-01T20:07:00.000-07:00

I am offering a contest. The rules are simple: post a comment and guess which and how many of the photos below are taken of Amish homes. I have labeled them, for easy reference below each photo.

Photo 1

Photo 2

Photo 3

Photo 4

Photo 5

Photo 6

Photo 7

The first person to guess correctly which and how many of these photos are of Amish homes will win a mini Cape Cod, handcrafted by my husband, David. Below is a photo of it.

Mini Cape by David Furlong

Generalizing about the Amish

2011-07-01T18:03:00.000-07:00

Erik Wesner posted something on Amish America this week that I couldn't help but respond to. To understand my comments, one really needs to read his post, which you can do by clicking here.

I responded in the comments section, and I am posting these comments here:

In reading through the original post and then the comments, I have to say I am torn about the whole electronic filing fee/fine and whether the Amish are making too much out of it. Perhaps they should be more discerning in picking their issues.

I am actually struck much more by the comment “The public for the most part views Amish society as one collective group–so if conservative Amish are making an issue out of a minor point, this becomes a complaint coming from ‘the Amish’ as a whole.”

Whose responsibility is it that people view Amish society as one collective group? The Amish are very aware of the diversity among their groups. Why is it okay for us to lump them together? Perhaps the responsibility for those of us who know about Amish diversity and have public fora, is to speak out against the generalizations that are normally made about “the Amish.” Erik, I feel you have done the opposite here — you actually used a generalization to make your point. Especially when you used the following example:

“To illustrate this point, I got an email from someone this weekend dissatisfied with what he described as poor work done by an Amish construction crew. As a result of the bad experience he stated that he has lost his respect for ‘the Amish’, and would never hire an Amish person again. One experience with one Amish group becomes ‘the Amish’ as a whole.”

There is no other ethnic/religious group in this country in which we could get away with such a statement. If we replace ‘Amish’ with Hispanic, African-American, Roman Catholic, or Jewish and then say we have lost respect for that whole group because of a single experience, wouldn’t we think of that as prejudice? Most of us would — and rightly so. I certainly hope this was your message to the person who emailed you. If not, you missed the opportunity to get the message across that we cannot generalize about the Amish — any more than we can about any other religious or ethnic group.

Remembering a Sister, Revisited

2011-06-26T14:52:00.000-07:00

I've had an off week, no doubt partly because two days ago was the second anniversary of my sister Elizabeth's death. I wrote about her last June 24th, a year after she died. You can read that here.

I find this year what I remember the most is the gratitude I had for my Aunt Martha, and my two cousins, Martha and Emma. I've talked about angels along my life journey before, and they were -- not only for me, but for Elizabeth. I had never been at someone's deathbed before, so I was feeling apprehension, and when they walked in, it seemed they were carried in by Grace herself. They sang for Elizabeth, they loved her, they talked to her, and took such good care of her. I still breathe a prayer of thanks for them.

My gratitude goes to Aunt Martha, Cousin Emma, and Cousin Martha for being there for Elizabeth in her last hours, and for being there for me, when I needed them the most.

From left to right: Elizabeth, Sister Susan, and Cousin Martha

Sister Susan, Elizabeth, myself, Aunt Martha, and Sister Sarah

Cousin Susie, myself, Sister Sarah, Niece Katie, Sister Susan, Cousin Emma

(Cousin Susie and Cousin Emma, on either ends are sisters)

(Niece Katie is Sister Susan's daughter)

I also give a prayer of thanks for all the people in Elizabeth's church community who came together and helped out. Losing a sister is intense, and it would have been even more so without the support of these key people.

Interview on Freakonomics Radio

2011-06-21T19:12:00.000-07:00

A little while ago, I had a really fun interview with Stephen Dubner, host of Freakonomics Radio for a segment named "The Upside of Quitting" that will be airing on WNYC in New York City on July 1 and at least sixty-five other stations in different parts of the country (at different times). Another former Amish woman, Emma Gingerich, was also interviewed for this show. You can check for a station near you on this map.

If you don't find a radio station near you that will air Freakonomics, you can still listen to it on the Freakonomics website.

Most of us know Freakonomics through Marketplace or the books Freakonomics and SuperFreakonomics, co-authored by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner. Now they are airing hour-long segments on the radio that "explore the hidden side of everything." I am very honored to have been interviewed for one of these segments. I just heard it for the first time tonight on the Freakonomics website.

I thought Stephen Dubner did a really good job, not only with interviewing quite a variety of people, but I liked his own commentary and the way he summed up the idea of quitting at the end.

Happy listening to people talking about the "upside of quitting."

Footprints in the Sand

2011-06-20T10:52:00.000-07:00

I had so much fun yesterday! David and I went to Cape Cod to celebrate our birthdays (his was on Saturday, mine yesterday). I cannot believe it took me fifty-four years to make it to Cape Cod, especially since we have lived within three hours of it for the last three years. I am fairly sure that it will not take me that long to return there -- in fact I have several book talks scheduled in the next three months.

When David and I were getting ready to leave, we couldn't help take pictures of the clematis that we bought two years ago for our birthdays. While we were at it, we also took pictures of roses that the former owner of the house had planted, and then we transplanted. She had lived here all her married life, and apparently she loved roses. And the hydrangeas that were planted before we moved here are also in bloom.

Our birthday flowers are blooming

Here is with the wheelbarrow...

And here is without...

I could not decide which photo I like better -- the one with the wheelbarrow, or the one without. I'll take votes...

David and I left for the Cape around eight o' clock. We had our bikes on the bike rack and our ride was pleasant. I don't know if this is true for other people, but David and I tend to have some of our deepest conversations in the car. The day was beautiful -- sunny, a smattering of clouds across the sky, and the temperature was perfect.

We got to the Cape around 11:30. We had seafood for lunch, then we drove to Wellfleet and left the car. We rode our bikes for twelve miles on the Rail Trail, which was really fun. David and I rediscovered our passion for biking together after I insisted on buying him a bike for his birthday last year.

We went looking for the seashore after our bike ride. And we found it... first we found it from atop a high sand dune, and there was the ocean, spread out before us. I had to think of the words of Captain William Clark: "Ocean in view! O! the Joy! We are in view of the ocean!" Perhaps my joy at this view of the Atlantic yesterday is small compared to the joy for the people in the Lewis and Clark expedition, but it didn't feel small. The smell of salt in the air, the sea breezes blowing through our hair, the sound of the waves washing over the shore, and the ocean stretched out under the vast, blue sky was unbelievable.

David and I took pictures of one another atop this dune. I wanted to ask someone to take a picture of the two of us together, but David wouldn't have it. Had I thought of the fact that it was my birthday at that moment, I would have talked him into it. But as it is, we have separate pictures of this moment.

A very typical David expression -- hard to capture on camera -- he can get goofy in front of the camera.

Talking about goofy...

We found another beach that was more accessible and that wasn't too crowded. David and I stood in one place for a while and let the waves wash over our feet. Then David went farther up the beach, and I stood there, mesmerized by the waves. I was in deep thought, looking right in front of me, not knowing that if I had picked up my gaze, I would have seen two seals swimming by. David got them on camera, one with its head out of the water.

Seals (click to enlarge photo)

I love seals and dolphins, and I would so much have liked to get a close view of these seals. I did see them later, farther down the shore. This same thing happened some years ago when we took our boys to Nags Head for an April vacation. We were playing in the waves and squealing from the cold of the water. Later someone asked if we saw the dolphins swimming around us. I wonder why I've not been looking in the right place for those things I want most to see?

We walked alongside the waves for a while. I wondered at some point why David was lingering behind me. He was sneaking pictures of me. I thought for sure I would be deleting them, but the one below made me think about life in general, and so I kept it.

Footprints in the sand

Footprints in the sand are temporary -- they only exist until the ocean waves come in and wash them away, one at a time, and then no one knows they were there. These footprints are like the memories that live in the minds of those whose lives we have touched when we leave this earth. Eventually these memories die also, one at a time, as those we loved also leave this earth. But the most beautiful thing about it is that there will be others making footprints in the sand...

The fact that my life on earth is temporary is humbling, especially now that I have lived more than half of it (unless I were to live to 109), but moments like yesterday at the beach make me catch my breath for the sheer beauty, gratitude, rapture of it all.

Do you have particularly memorable birthday experiences? I would love to know about them.

Amish Diversity

2011-06-17T19:11:00.000-07:00

Michelle wrote:

I'm a fairly new reader, I found your blog after a google search on celery. I've always been fascinated by the way the Amish live so lately I've been reading everything I can get my hands on. Since I haven't been able to find an answer, my big question is about celery. Why does it play such an important role surrounding marriage and what is it's symbolism?

Michelle, I didn't think it would take me this long to answer your question, especially because I can refer you to an earlier post in which I addressed this question:

Amish and the Color Blue, Superstitions, and Celery at Weddings

Diversity is not usually a word we associate with the Amish, but I am realizing just how diverse the Amish are in their various communities. I did not even know that some Amish eat celery at weddings until after I left the Amish. I also never heard of "Amish Friendship Bread" and I'd never eaten a Shoo-Fly Pie until after I left.

And this does not just apply to food. I had no idea that at least one Amish community didn't allow hardwood floors in their community until I read that on Mary Ann's blog. The community in Somerset, Pennsylvania is the only one I am aware of that has church buildings, where the community meets for church services, rather than meeting in people's homes (or sheds or barns).

The rules of the church (Ordnung) vary quite a bit from one community to another. Besides such obvious things as the women's style of head coverings and and the style of buggies, there are such things as window coverings -- in my home community, we were not allowed to have shades, but in Lancaster and some other communities, they have to have green vinyl shades and as far as I know are not allowed to have curtains. And what is allowed on buggies in terms of lights, storm fronts, and gadgets, varies a great deal.

Another thing that varies greatly is the level of leeway the parents lend their young people when they are dating. No Amish parents I know literally give their young people a conscious choice about staying or leaving (contrary to common perception that rumspringa equals conscious choice), but some parents allow still give their young people a "longer rein" in some communities than they do in others. I know in some communities, the young people are required to join church before they are allowed to date. This allows the parents and elders to "rein in" their young people much more tightly.

One thing that I was really surprised by when I was doing my internship with Donald Kraybill (and he was just as surprised as I was) that the time period for "temporary shunning" varies from one community to another -- where I grew up, that time period is two weeks, but in Lancaster (and perhaps other communities, too) that time period is six weeks.

I just realized that I've not addressed temporary shunning before. Normally there are several levels of church discipline to bring errant church members into compliance with the Ordnung. The first level is to make a public confession sitting before the bishop. The second is to kneel before the bishop. And the third is to be temporarily shunned, and then some weeks later, if with the proper show of contrition, the errant members makes a kneeling confession and is welcomed back into the church.

So the Amish may not have too much diversity in terms of race or ethnicity, but they certainly do in terms of their rules, traditions, and beliefs. I am still learning just how much they do vary.

Freedom and Responsibility

2011-06-10T13:41:00.000-07:00

Erik Wesner, of Amish America, brought up an interesting issue about Amish in Kentucky who are refusing to use the orange triangle on the backs of their buggies. Here is my opinion added to the mix:

With every freedom comes a responsibility. No car drivers have use of the roads, paid for by all, without obeying the rules of the road, so why should buggy drivers be allowed to use the road and ignore all safety precautions? In my opinion, the Amish should be choosing their issues -- the triangle is a trivial issue. If the government were to outlaw buggies because of safety issues, then perhaps they would have an issue. Having said this, I don't believe the triangle is going far enough. There is a huge difference in how visible buggies are from one community to another. When I was in Shipshewana, Indiana, I was appalled at how hard it was to see the buggies at night... and this in a "high" Amish group. In Geauga County, Ohio, the Amish have adopted LED lights, both flashing in the back and "headlights" in the front and there is reflector tape outlining the back of the buggy... in flat places, one can see a buggy from a mile away. Now it is up to car drivers to take the proper precautions and slow down.

I once had an experience in my old neighborhood that outlines the issue by taking the Amish beliefs out of the equation. I was backing out of my driveway -- I'd looked both ways, but at the height of cars or someone walking. I was ready to back up, but intuition told me to look again... partly because I noticed a mother walking her baby in a stroller, and I knew she had two other children. Lo and behold, right behind my back tires, was a little toy car, driven by a five-year-old, and she had stopped right behind my back tire, barely visible in my rear-view mirror. Her little sister was in the "passenger" seat. Had I backed up, and hit those two little towheads, I would have felt guilty for the rest of my days, and probably had nightmares about it, too. And yet none of it would have been my fault...

This is the side people don't take into account when they hear of a buggy accident, in which someone was hurt or killed. What about the person who was driving responsibly, and could not avoid the accident, simply because he or she could not see the buggy? That is as tragic for the car driver as it is for the people who were hurt -- how does one recover from such a thing? Sure, the Amish would forgive you, but could you forgive yourself? I know I would be saying "If only...." for the rest of my life. By chalking everything up to God's Will, we are not taking into account our own will and our sense of responsibility. In my mind acting responsibly is bringing our own will into alignment with God's.

I wrote the other day, about the Amish ability to take what comes, and their sense of not taking life for granted. In my mind, for the "low" Amish to ignore safety precautions as they drive their buggies on the road is an example of taking this point of view to an extreme. I'm glad for all of us that most Amish have a more moderate approach to life and do take precautions and are responsible buggy drivers.

Amish and Health Care, Revisited

2011-06-08T19:38:00.000-07:00

Sarah wrote: I'm not sure if you've talked about this topic, but I'm interested in knowing how the Amish view modern medicine. I've seen them in modern hospitals, and I also worked in a chiropractor's office where many of them visited. Do they have limits on what would take them to a medical facility versus seeking "natural remedies"? What about childbirth? Are they most likely to do home births, or do they deliver in hospitals?

Sarah, thank you for your questions. These are definitely questions that cannot be answered by using the phrase "the Amish," even less than we can say "Americans" when referring to health care decisions.

To answer some of your questions, you can refer to my earlier post Amish and Health Care.

Your question about childbirth is an interesting one, and I realize this is one of those I cannot answer because I've been out of the community for too long. I know I was born at an Amish midwife's house. At the time, there was an older single woman who was a midwife. She was the last of her kind in my home community, as far as I know. At the time I left, it was more common for women to have hospital births than home births, though I know some home births were not even attended by midwives. So it really varied. I don't know what the trend is in my home community at this point, and I know nothing about the preferences in other Amish communities at that time, now, or anytime in between.

Sorry that I cannot be more specific with answers to your questions. This is about the best I can do. Thanks, though, for asking.

Life, Tragedy, and Death -- The Amish Way

2011-06-04T19:10:00.000-07:00

Kristina asked: What is the one thing that you would most like to convey to people, about the Amish, to those who are interested in or are praying for them?

Kristina, this is rather a tough question, because there are many things I want to convey about the Amish. David made a remark to someone at a book talk today, when he said, "Saloma likes to complicate people's view of the Amish." This is true in many ways -- I do want people to know that the Amish cannot possibly live up to the romanticized view that many people have of them. But there are also some things that I truly admire about them.

Erik Wesner had asked a question on his blog the other day about whether Amish life is inherently more dangerous than that in the mainstream culture and he wrote about a tragic accident in which a baby died from falling out of a buggy. I think that the answer is yes, life among the Amish is more dangerous. But the Amish worldview is different about life in general -- most Amish I know accept death as part of life. They see everything -- even tragic accidents -- as God's Will. Because of this, they do not "settle in" to this life quite as comfortably as the mainstream culture. Rather, they see each day on earth as a gift granted by God. At first blush, this may seem like a cavalier attitude toward physical safety. However, the Amish don't seem to take life for granted as much as the rest of us tend to. In some ways, this makes them more resilient and self-reliant. If there is a tragedy, the community pulls together and they help each other out. So, rather than put their energy into making life "safe" they seem to be ready for whatever comes their way. There is strength in that, albeit a different kind than we normally recognize.

I have come to the conclusion that taking something for granted is exactly the opposite of being grateful for something. I think the Amish can teach us something about being grateful for our lives and about accepting tragedy and death as part of life. Having said that, I cannot imagine going through what the parents of that 11-month old baby must be going through. I'm sure they could use our prayers.

Thanks, Kristina, for your question.

More Details of the Book Tour

2011-06-01T21:09:00.000-07:00

Thank you all, for your good wishes about the book tour. It's always a bit hard to know how many details are too many about my book promotion, because the main focus of this blog is "About Amish," at least what I know about it having grown on in an Amish community. But your comments have inspired me to talk more about my trip and the various venues.

David and I had several adventures on this trip that we had not expected. Our first venue on Sunday was at the Whippanong Library, where a nice crowd of about 45 people showed up for the afternoon tea that the librarian, Sulekha, who was a wonderful host (we would yet find out just how wonderful) had coordinated. After the event, when we were saying thank you, Sulekha said if we ever need a place to stay in that area, we should call her and gave us her phone number. David and I thought that was very nice of her, but we had already made plans, and we said good-bye to her before heading over to our friends', where we were planning on staying the night. We found a note on the door that let us know there had been a medical emergency (which turned out fine, thank goodness). We decided to go have some dinner at a restaurant we knew about in Mendham, New Jersey and talk about what to do from there. Just before this trip, we had signed up for "Mennonite Your Way," and we thought about calling someone on the list. Then I said to David, "You know what's weird -- the librarian said we should call her if we need a place to stay."

A long story short, David and I enjoyed our evening in Sulekha and her husband's home. She made excellent Indian Chai, and we talked about our different cultures -- they both grew up in India. We had a comfortable night's sleep in their wonderful home and by the time we headed out the next morning, we felt that everything happened just as it should have.

On Tuesday, David and I had lunch with Lynn Kimmerle, and then I did a talk at the Chester Library. That was a more intimate audience than I've had yet, with seventeen people. One of the things I enjoy most about talking in libraries is that I get to meet the librarians, who I find a congenial group of people as a whole. I enjoyed meeting Mary Murphy, who coordinated this event, who was a pleasant host. Sometimes it's nice to have a smaller audience, because then everyone who has questions gets a chance to ask them. We returned to Lynn's house for overnight. Lynn and I talked until 3 o'clock AM -- something I haven't done for years. (She remarked that we are both old enough to know better).

On Wednesday, we went and visited our friends, Pat and John Anderson, who I first met when I was still Amish. I stayed at their home for several nights when I took a New England trip, and their daughter, who was in fifth grade, took me to her class for "show and tell." I subsequently left the Amish, less than a month after my visit with them and we lost touch for 33 years. Then they found me after my book was published. They have kindly hosted us several times when we were in New Jersey on tour. We look forward to hosting them at our house this summer. There are only a few people I knew when I was Amish with whom I am in touch with now. John and Pat Anderson are two of them. I feel very fortunate to have this connection, and David has really enjoyed getting to know them.

Wednesday night we had our largest crowd for the week, at the Warren Township Library. Marcela Dunham contacted me through Lynn Kimmerle some months ago, and she did a phenomenal job of promoting this event, so that she ended up with a full house (67 people). I was very impressed with Marcela's dedication, especially when she said she was going to call everyone on her sign-up list, to let them know that there were people on a waiting list to get in and that if they were not coming, to let her know. She had also been proactive in letting me know what she thought her patrons would want to know about, so I tailored my talk to include the topics she suggested. Judging by the comments and questions people asked, she was a good judge of what her patrons like. To add to her dedication, Marcela sent me an email with feedback and pictures. Below is a photo that shows a large part of the audience.

Talk at Warren Township Library in New Jersey

Marcela kindly wrote: "Our patrons at the Warren Library enjoyed your talk tremendously, and are still talking about it. Apparently some people congregated outside the library after your talk, still discussing the information you provided. It was informative and fascinating. Since then, every time I meet one of the attendees they tell me that it was one of my best programs!!"

On Thursday, I did two talks -- one at Marion Manor for a book club. Frances Larkey, the events coordinator at the Caldwell Public Library, set up this talk. She thought we would have about 12 people show up, but more like 36 showed up for the talk. Then Frances took us out for a very enjoyable meal and chat before my talk at the Caldwell Public Library. Between 35 and 40 people showed up for that talk. I had a very pleasant surprise while setting up for the talk. I normally put on a CD of Amish church singing, as people are arriving. In this case, a woman was reading the New York Times, and suddenly she put down her paper and said, "Can you tell me what that music is?" I told her what it was, and she said it sounded just like the kind of singing that she grew up with at a Primitive Baptist Church, which I found fascinating. I invited her to give the audience a sampling of the singing she described, and she graciously did so -- and wow, what a powerful voice! Her name is Johnnie Jones Tucker, and she is a Gospel Singer/Songwriter/Writer/Poet. It was a pleasure to meet her.

Frances Larkey is another example of a librarian who is not only congenial, but she also went above and beyond. She was a gracious and enthusiastic host, who was fun and easy to talk with. And she had obviously done a super job of promoting the event, judging by the enthusiasm of the comments and questions and the number of people who showed up.

I already mentioned the talk I did at the Lancaster Public Library, which was another great talk, with Sue Bowser as the host for that event. Another great job! David and I stayed overnight with the Wenger family in Lancaster for two nights. What a great family, and what fun their two daughters -- Anna and Naomi -- are!

Our last event took place on Saturday afternoon at the Main Library in Arlington, Virginia, when 23 people showed up for my talk, including four friends from that area. It was a great group. We then enjoyed our evening with our friends, Tim and Anne Hunt. We had dinner out, then we sat by their water garden, and chatted until we saw our first fireflies of the season.

So, one hearty thank you to all the wonderful librarians and hosts who helped make our tour a success last week. David and I are so grateful for all your kindnesses.

About Amish

Snapshots - 1

Interview and Book Giveaway

Life in Fast Forward

Celebrations

Amish Men Jailed

Announcing an Appearance on "American Experience"

A Day in the Life of an Amish Person, Part III

A Day in the Life of an Amish Person, Part II

A Day in the Life of an Amish Person

Monica "The Mennobrarian" is Back!

A Fond Farewell to Stephen Scott

Happy New Year! And Winners Chosen

We Did It!

In the Spirit of Giving...

Silent Night...

This and That Tuesday

And the winner is...

Winners announced tomorrow morning

This and That Thursday and a Giveaway

Answering the Final Questions

More Answers to Your Questions

Scarf Giveaway

More Answers to Your Questions

Leaving a Legacy, Revisited

Forces Changing the Amish from within

Blankets with a Cedar Smell

Announcements: Radio Interview and a Craft Show

Family in Kentucky and Ohio

Tell Me about Yourself Award

A Mennonite Wedding and Apple Butter Festival

Scenes from Iowa

Minnesota Nice

A View from a West Window...

Chicago and Views from Cashton, Wisconsin

Introducing Vintage Village Christmas Ornaments

Abuse -- The Real Issue

Pride and Prejudices among the Amish

Scenes from Northern Indiana

Announcing the Winner

A Drawing for a Book Giveaway

Autumn Memories

A Hutterite Story

On the Radio with Mindy Todd

Liebster Blog

A Change of Plans

Interviews and Appearances

Footwashing and Forgiveness

Announcing the Winner

Correction for Date of Drawing

Interview with Ira Wagler, author of "Growing up Amish" and Drawing for a Free Copy

Bantum Roosters, Part III

Special Post -- Introducing Vintage Village Designs by David

Bantum Roosters, Part II

Bantum Roosters, Part I

An Announcement...

How Do You Do It?

Putting Food By - Amish and English Style

And the New Winner Is...

And the Answer Is....

A Contest

Generalizing about the Amish

Remembering a Sister, Revisited

Interview on Freakonomics Radio

Footprints in the Sand

Amish Diversity

Amish and the Color Blue, Superstitions, and Celery at Weddings

Freedom and Responsibility

Amish and Health Care, Revisited

Life, Tragedy, and Death -- The Amish Way

More Details of the Book Tour