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More on the Amish Visit

While in Pennsylvania, I asked an Amish farmer about Rumspringa.  My question brought a bit of annoyance from my host, but the charming gentleman hid it well.  Many Amish fiction novels are written with the theme from the Pennsylvania Dutch term, Rumspringa—the period given to adolescence where young people, usually at about age fourteen receive freedom to explore the world of the English.  The Amish refer to Americans outside the community as English.

Young men and women during this period may investigate a lifestyle outside their gentle environments.  Many drive cars, experiment with alcohol, choose contemporary clothes or hairstyles and hang with English friends.

Once the young person accepts the Amish faith, he or she is baptized into the church. If they decide to leave the community after this rite, they forfeit their place with family and community.  They are ostracized or shunned—never to be forgiven.

As the Amish farmer escorted us to his farm in Lancaster County via horse and wagon, he replied, “Rumspringa isn’t as big a deal as novelists make it.”

I detected he preferred his people to be known for other reasons than wayward youth. A few of his children were of Rumspringa age.  This stage is often a headache for any parent—Amish or English.

I smiled inwardly. I have yet to write an Amish romance but I enjoy these novels immensely.  The beliefs of this community, their daily routines and history generate fascinating ideas.

I write Christian fantasy about a petite angel who comes to earth to help humans and goofs a lot in the process.  But my stories, although they possess bits of theological truth, contain fantasy.

The Amish lifestyle is real—no fantasy.

The farmer escorted a rather large group of us to his farm.  Along the way, one of the Americans spoke quietly and reverently to us about a tragic Amish school shooting that had occurred about seven years ago. The Amish community extended a spirit of mercy, kindness and forgiveness toward the perpetrator and his family.

Another lady softly marveled. “How could they forgive someone who killed their children, but will not forgive a child who denounces his faith?”

Respect for our host did not allow us to ask such things, and the farmer did not hear the discussions in the back of his wagon. For that fact, I’m grateful.

By the way, we later learned that the lady who marveled at the Amish’s ability to shun a child is a Buddhist. A statue of Buddha resides in her garden.

My brief time with the Amish is history, but I came away thinking about allegiance.  Who or what we commit our lives to should be real, accurate, and truthful.  For me that is Jesus Christ, not Buddha.

Rather than the simple existence of the Amish, I choose to live in the modern world and enjoy the conveniences of it.

Sometimes I’m able to show mercy, kindness and forgiveness, other times I fall short.

Like the Buddhist lady, or the Amish farmer, it’s my goal.

 

 

 

Amish Country

I’ve missed blogging for a few weeks, and it is good to be back.  My husband and I vacationed in New England and eastern Canada. We returned a few days ago.  I thought about all of you…truly I did.  Now that I’ve returned to Texas, I want to share a few moments of our trip.

When we stopped in Pennsylvania Amish Country, I met the lady pictured here.

 

 

 

 She stood beside me as we both examined books in a gift shop.  She kept picking out the same genre that I did.  I finally said to her, “You and I enjoy the same books.  Maybe you’d like to read one I wrote.”  I handed her a Sarah: A Mission of Love book card.  She looked up at me in surprise. 

“You are the author? I read that book and really liked it.”

Wow!  Talk about a thrill.  That was a first for me.  I’d never met a stranger who had actually read one of my books.  She seemed to enjoy the experience too.  We exchanged emails, and I hope to visit with her now and then by computer exchange.  She lives in that beautiful Amish country, while I live in Texas.  As you can see by our jackets, we enjoyed cool, fall weather that night.  Dry, breezy temperatures provided a welcome relief from the south Texas heat and humidity. 

That same evening, we attended a dinner hosted by an Amish family. An eighth grader entertained us about his life in the one room school house. This young man told how many days he had left in the class room, and then no more school. The students finish after the eighth year. He appeared delighted and looked forward to helping his father in the craft shop.  

Since I enjoy Amish novels, I knew something about their way of life and had visited an Amish school once before. The school term was no surprise to me, but many diners found it amazing that children received a limited education, especially the teachers in the crowd. 

The students begin each day with Bible reading and prayer.  I asked the young man if they also said the Pledge of Allegiance to the American flag.  He replied, “I don’t know what that is. Ask my father. He’s on the school board.”

His father turned to me and said, “I don’t know why we don’t say the Pledge of Allegiance, no one has ever asked me that. I will ask the Bishop.”

Leave it to me to make an inquiry that hasn’t been asked before.  Must be the writer in me.

I wish I could have shown you his picture.  He's a very handsome guy, but the Amish allow no photographs.  A photograph is a graven image, and it breaks one of the Ten Commandments.

I admire the Amish.  They are devoted Christians, but I prefer to live my faith with today’s modern conveniences. Riding in a horse and buggy, fastening clothes with straight pins, no computers, and wearing no makeup doesn’t make my day.  Since no mirrors are allowed in their homes, (that image thing again...plus it's vanity.) I wouldn’t see my unadorned face, but everyone else would.  Yikes!

If you haven’t read Amish stories, pick one up.  Beverly Lewis writes lovely novels in that genre.  Others do as well. 

What about you?  Would you trade your lifestyle for an Amish one?

More next time. Stay tuned.