The Amish & the Power of Silence

 

You may have noticed a big gap between blog posts starting around 2020. Well, it wasn’t because of Covid, but my son-in-law passing from cancer, leaving two young sons and my daughter. It was a time of focusing on what’s more important than writing. It was hard to write, something I usually find quite fun. Everything seemed forced and labored. Why? Because I was depressed, pushed down, worried.
The Lord goes before, as He promised, and going to the Amish dry goods store was one of the only places I went when lockdowns came. Oh, and the peace and quite in that store. Most Amish women don’t shout across isles but are quiet, concentrating on their grocery list, as if in a library.
Josh’s cancer treatments began the month before Covid hit, and I craved to go to Smicksburg more, not knowing why. So, I reflected what it was about silence. Amish friends listened to my confusion and pain with a holy hush, as if experiencing it themselves. I came away feeling understood.
These people listened and didn’t give me packaged answers.
“We’re praying for a miracle.”
“Thoughts and prayers.”
I have wonderful friends and family who didn’t act this way, of course, but the Amish culture lifts me in a way like no other. They don’t expect life to be easy. They read about their ancestors who were martyred for their faith. Dare I say they are not entitled? When someone in the Amish community passes, they don’t give answers, but sit with those who grieve. That’s it. They give the gift of their presence in silence. But they used words:
“I’m here for you.”
“I care.”
“I don’t judge you for not believing hard enough for a miracle.”
Like the old saying goes, “Actions speak louder than words.”
As I see so much division in the USA and around the world, we could learn so much from the Amish. Pause and think about what the other person just said. Don’t judge the person but try to understand. If we did this, perhaps the anger would go down because people would feel understood.
We can do all this by just listening, while being silent. It is a gift.

I was looking for a picture to match this post and when my book written in 2021 came up in my file, I was shocked. It's about just what I mentioned about silence. Subconsciously I wrote about a girl being understood while others listened. Oh, my. I do write what I'm going through.
God bless you and I hope to be blogging more! 
 

 

 

 

 

Covid and Grief Among the Amish

 

My daughter-in-law and I decided to stock up at the dry goods store in Smicksburg, PA. Usually Smicksburg is a healing place and we needed it.  She’d been pregnant during Covid and the talk of death made the grief of losing her dad resurface. We were also dealing with the loss of Josh, my son-in-law who died of brain cancer in October, 2020. So, going to Smicksburg seemed perfect.

When we got to the dry goods store, I noticed too many buggies lined up around the owner’s house next door. Some Amish were walking soberly. I gasped. NO! Surely not Clara! But it was Clara. She died of a heart attack. Wow, I will miss her pleasant, quirky humor. Her daughters will continue the store, but it won’t be the same.

“Let’s drive past the Bylers,” I suggested. “Maybe their greenhouses are open.”

Another lump in my throat as we approached. “No!” I near shouted as we saw many buggies, vans, and cars with Ohio license plates. As the rain beat on the window, I let it down and shouted, “Bishop Byler?” The Amish man shook his head. “I’m not Bishop Byler. I’m from Ohio.” I forced a smile. “You have a twin then. Who passed away?”

It was the mother of all Bylers who came to Smicksburg in 1963 from Ohio, the lovely woman who in her late 80s gave me a four-hour interview on their spirituality. How she relied on forgiveness and the power of the Holy Spirit. She amazed me and since that day I’d drop in and she’d be sewing clothes for her many grandchildren. “I’ll be sewing until I die,” she’d said.

Her husband preceded her in death by three months. I didn’t even ask what the cause of death was. We all knew they were in their 90s and that virus took them.

Somehow Smicksburg wasn’t my slice of heaven that day. The only thing that helped was their view of death and not questioning the timing of God. The sovereignty of God. I had to admit that since Josh passed, I’ve struggled. Why, God? He was only thirty years old. His sons need him. My heart hurts. Where are you in all this?

So, despite the stages of grief, the Amish simple trust in God helps me again. I’m looking for more help, and I’d like to mention that a letter from our Compassion child in Uganda made me see things from a childlike faith.
“I’m not afraid of Covid. God knows my beginning and end,” Owen wrote.

Owen is six. Death is not foreign to him. It is to us living in America. Many don’t know what to say to my widowed daughter.

I’m taking time away from novel writing for a season. It was an easy decision. My book, 31 Days to a Simple Life, talks about simplicity of mind. My family will always come first. My grandsons need Tim and me to take them on a train trip, go to the zoo, have another sleep over and the list goes on.  I don’t want to be too busy to see what’s important. And to accept the things I cannot change, as the Amish put it.

Clara was proud of her loom...in a good way! 

The many spools that feed into the loom is truly an art. Clara was the best.

Life goes on among the Smicksburg Amish, despite the loss. 

Josh until the end, trying to make good memories for his family.

 

 

 

Why many Amish have free healthcare!

“The Amish outnumber us!” my daughter squealed. “This is great!” My youngest daughter LOVES the Amish! 

Our family went to the annual Smicksburg Benefit Auction last weekend. They make enough money to pay into their special hospitalization plans made with local hospitals. This lump sum covers the community for a year. Gasp. Jah, I wish we Englishers could do this somehow. Just imagine if your church made quilts, furniture and whatnot for a year. If they accepted donations such as guns, chainsaws, livestock, etc. And then you ask all your friends to attend and you have enough money to pay in advance on a medical plan for your entire church! This would indeed be free healthcare! 

We can learn a lot from the Amish! 

Since a picture is worth a thousand words, consider this photojournalism. :) 

What struck me funny in the grass parking lot was the number of Amish children surrounding Englishers. They love a good story or "telling". I wonder what yarn this man is spinning. 

One of the first quilts up for auction was this unique Pennsylvania Keystone State quilt. I've never seen a quilt like this. Faces are blotted out to respect their culture. 

My granddaughter gasped when this quilt was lifted up on a long pole. She loves purple. Grandma didn't bid though. This one went for over 7K. 

What I love about the Amish in Smicksburg is how friendly they are to Outsiders. A closer look at this picture would have been nice. You'd see many shooting the breeze, but I must not take pictures showing their faces. I want to remain a Trusted English Friend.

It was 88 Degrees Fahrenheit, so many found refuge under the refreshment tent. Again, Amish chatting with the Yankees (English).

Unlike their church service, there was no need to separate men and women on this day. But how fun it was to see them do it naturally. Friendship among the Amish is a cornerstone of their culture.

On my wish list! Lots of rustic furniture was in the auction barn, along with tree root tables. TREE ROOT TABLES! How creative!

I was shocked at how big this event was. I've been invited for fifteen years but something always comes up the second Saturday in August. Not this year. I engraved it in stone on my calendar.

Too many buggies to count! They were unhitched and horses were tethered to the exterior fence that surrounds this large farm. I have never in my life seen so many Amish in one location.

Different types of buggy styles for different church districts of settlements. I was hoping to see a yellow topped buggy from Volant, PA, but not a one. All black with slight variations.


On the way home, my granddaughter asked how long it took the Amish to get home. I told it that it depends on how far they have to travel. She looked puzzled and asked when are they coming back.  Next year? She didn't know that many lived right there in Smicksburg!  "I want to visit them again and again!" she exclaimed. "I love them!" So, now I have another Amish loving travel companion.

My middle daughter wasn't an Amish enthusiast, but after the auction, she changed her mind! "They have something we all lack in America," she said. "They all pulled together like worker bees. They have real community."

I agree. How can we do this in our churches? Suggestions or information welcome. Leave it in the comment box.

Christmas in July Multi-Author Book Giveaway Plus a $100 Amazon Card

Can you believe there is just 6 months until Christmas? Celebrate Lit Publishing is giving away 20+ Christmas books, including one from yours truly. 
PLUS a $100 Amazon gift!
Click here to enter: https://promosimple.com/…/e5b5/july-christmas-multi-author-…
The event and giveaway is going on now through July 13. 
"I WILL HONOR CHRISTMAS IN MY HEART AND TRY TO KEEP IT ALL YEAR! (Charles Dickens)

Do the Amish lie? Do they seek attention?

I took my friend Janet to Smicksburg to get plants for my garden…and a shopping list from others…my kids.  “Mom, text me when you get to Lydia’s. See if she has sweet banana peppers or Amish Paste Tomatoes.”  At $1.65 per six-pack, jah, I fill my back deck with orders from family and friends. And then Lydia’s flower arrangements…sigh…what a talent.

It was great as usual. Janet exhaled with utter satisfaction as we wandered around the windy roads. “They have something we don’t have. I feel so peaceful,” she said.

As usual, I agreed. It’s why I’m hooked on the Amish way of life. We visited Barb, an Amish mother of nine who also runs a greenhouse and her daughters and grandkids were all sitting around talking, and a young Amish boy on a pony came up. How much more of Little House on the Prairie could we take?

Little House on the Prairie moment!

We continued to mosey around, trying to find a new quilt shop, but instead saw a sign for cedar lawn furniture. We followed them and to a new shop, and to my surprise, it was the youngest brother (bruder) of a well-loved Amish family I write about. (I must change names to protect their privacy and culture. MOST Amish don’t want attention brought to them.)

As I talked to “Joe” about getting a new picnic table, he said he’d like to start reading my books because SO MANY LIES ABOUT THE AMISH ARE CIRCULATING! (Yes, I know I said that in all caps, which writers shouldn’t do, but I do mean to scream it out.)

You see, the Amish in Western Pennsylvania have been targeted by big name media to tell lies. Paid to be on shows that are utter nonsense. If they were any other people group, they’d sue, but of course they don’t believe in defending themselves. They trust God to do it, but I like to help. 😉

“Joe” told me the Amish in punxsutawney are particularly hurt, since some Ex-Amish who took the bait (money) to tell lies still hold their ground. Some are still making money selling slanderous tales. I don’t know why people are addicted to reality shows that demean people of any culture or race. Why do we need to look down on others?

One theory on why many crave to bash the Amish is very interesting. We want to pop their perfect, little world. It’s like saying, “Aha! I told you they were fakes!” Instead of looking within to change our lives to make them better, it’s easier to look down on others.

And sadly, there are a handful of Amish willing to exaggerate (lie) to get attention to give us that ‘aha moment.’  It’s heartbreaking to listen to people like “Joe” because of the shame placed on his culture. (Some tales are too salacious to write on this blog.)

Although they don’t believe in suing, they do want the record set straight. And that’s my mission as an author about these fine people. Many real Ex-Amish folks can give a truthful, fair account of their lives growing up Amish, but it’s not degrading enough to create a media mania.

Amish School Picnic!

Tim and I spent the last day of April in Smicksburg. While visiting an Amish family, something extraordinary happened. Let me explain.

Little Andy, age ten, is the chatterbox of the family, and he had ants in his pants, excitement making him jump. “Do you know we had a half-day today because tomorrow is the school picnic? We walked home because we had a half day. It’s only a two-mile hike through the woods. And it’s so nice outside. I can’t wait for the school picnic! We have so much fun. So much to eat. We play games! The parents come to school for the whole day!”

I chuckled and asked what else they did at the picnic. He tilted his head and flung up his arms and repeated what he just said with more gusto. And he added, “There’s no school, and it’s the last day! We’re off for the summer!!!!!”

I understood that part. I lived for the last day of school when I was in elementary school. I chatted with the other kids and they came back to talking about the school picnic. You’d think they won a trip to Disneyland, I thought. And then it hit me. These children enjoyed simple things. A picnic with food and games. Community.  Once again, I felt like I was transported out to the prairie and was talking to Laura Ingalls Wilder.

The oldest son, Reuben, was thirteen and graduating. He seemed a little sad but went on to explain that he has an apprenticeship with a wood carver to satisfy the state’s requirements. Pennsylvania makes Amish children do a one-year vocational training after they finish eighth grade. Rueben will put in his one year, but he already had a job with his grandfather making sheds. He’ll be taking over the business someday.  That transported me to Ben Walton who worked with his grandpa on Walton’s Mountain during the Great Depression.

So, what was extraordinary? Children content with simple things. Children not hooked to electronics. Children who had fun the old-fashioned way. Baseball and apple pie. I think I need to hang out with these kids more and learn from them. How easy it is to become discontent in our pleasure saturated culture.

We went back to the camp and reevaluated our lives.

Amish Reconciliation Dinners: Finding Unity over Food

A while back, Tim and I bought fifteen acres from an Amish friend in Smicksburg, PA. But there was a problem; we needed to use a road (a right of way or easement) through another Amish family’s property… and they didn’t like this. So much so, that when we went down the road to get to our land, there were rakes and pitchforks blocking our entry.

Then an Amish man, we’ll call him 'Eli' instead of his real name, came over on a cussing rant. I’ll admit, I can be feisty at times and wagged a finger, telling him, “I’m going to tell your bishop on you!”

So we went down the road to tell Amish friends what happened. “Who is his bishop?” we asked. Gulp. The Amish man who’d just cussed us out was the bishop. Our friends said, “Jah, you have a bad apple in every bushel. Even Amish have problems.”

After we were able to speak due to shock, we learned that no one, even a bishop, is above being corrected. A few Amish families got together and had the bishop over for a reconciliation dinner. We weren’t invited; they wanted to work on this bishop’s inappropriate behavior on their own.

We waited a few weeks to go up to our land and were met by the bishop with a smile and an extended hand. (No pitchfork in it). He humbly apologized and told us all he was going through as we walked our land. He ended up playing the harmonica for us on his front porch. A real Walton’s moment for me.

We asked our Amish friends about this reconciliation dinner. No details were given except that it was worked out. The Amish intrigue us to know end! It's in the past and worked out. They asked us to report any future problems, but "things were worked out". 

We had to ask, “So problems are solved over food?” Well, there was more than one meal, but yes. One thing I’ve noticed having observed many Amish over thirty years is that they work differences out. And they expect to have problems since they’re human. The Amish are a Christian group who know they have a sin nature that needs fixing here and there. Not working out sin can lead to a ban or shunning, but that's another story. 

“Now the deeds of the flesh are obvious, which are: adultery, sexual immorality, uncleanness, lustfulness, idolatry, sorcery, hatred, strife, jealousies, outbursts of anger, rivalries, divisions, heresies, envy, murders, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these.” Galatians 5: 19-21

Many see the Amish as beings so pious, it does them no justice. They work hard to maintain the peace and harmony we see when visiting Amish tourist places or shops. Millions from around the world visit Lancaster County to soak in their quaint and charming ways, but most don’t realize the hard work it takes to have their level of unity. (Thousands from around the world read this blog with no access to a Bible, so I’m putting the scriptures in from the World English Bible.)

What we usually see in the Amish is the fruit of the Holy Spirit:

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faith, gentleness, and self-control.” Galatians 5:22-23

We’ve never had a problem again with this Amish bishop. I can’t help but wonder that if our country had reconciliations dinners, we wouldn’t be so divided. We are the United States of America. As usual, the Amish give me much to ponder.

 

I captured this grouping of Amish buggies in Smicksburg.
Most likely not a reconciliation dinner, but folks with cabin fever! Brr. Cold out!

Road trip Across America seeking more Amish & Native American Connections

After thirty years, I’m still gleaning secrets to a simpler life from Amish friends. My husband and I are taking a road trip across America to learn more. Ever so thankful to have a husband who's partners in Amish hunting. ;) We love our Amish friends in Smicksburg, but we get a bit myopic, since they're only half hour away. So we're expanding our horizons.

As the Amish are now in 40-some states, hubby and I are getting ready to leave for three-weeks from Western Pennsylvania. Something deep within makes us seekers and lifelong learners of the Amish and Mennonites. I’ve wondered about their appeal and lately, I think they’re similar to St. Augustine and some of the Desert Fathers & Sisters who left a materialistic world in 300 A.D. to embrace simplicity and be off-the-grid. Today, all the buzz about tiny house living and modern day minimalism, are we at the breaking point? I think so. Tim and I are.

I also want to get back to the old-fashioned way of life. Both of my parents were first generation immigrants. My mom passed on some Italian sayings and my dad his Croatian. When I was a teen I was shocked to find that “cleanliness is next to godliness” and “charity begins at home” were not in the Bible. I checked “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all’ was in there, and it’s not either.

So, I do understand the Amish with their sayings. They’re taught to their children as little nibbles of wisdom to steer them in life.

Regrets over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow are twin thieves that rob us of the moment.

Live each short hour with God and the long years will take care of themselves.

I’m so blessed to have learned so much from the Amish. I hope to inspire and point not only to God in my writings, now to include non-fiction and a lot more blogging here. I yearn to help readers to walk a path a bit less chaotic. Granny Weaver, an elderly Amish woman character who finds her way in most of my books, knitting needles in tow, is a lover of Robert Frost. (The Amish love poetry.) She reads and ponders The Road Not Taken:

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.”

As we head from Pennsylvania to New Mexico, we know there’s unrest in America. What path should we take? For answers, we hope to connect with and understand Native American culture as well. Having lived near Seneca Nation in Salamanca, New York for ten years, we admired how, despite present day opposition and prejudice, they aren't bitter, but give a warning: "Our country was taken from us. It can happen to the White Man." Somber words, but true. So intrigued by Natives, I hope to meet some that live near Amish so I can continue to combine both cultures like I do in my novels The Amish Doll and Plain Jane.

So, hopefully, you'll be seeing plenty of pictures of Amish across America along with Natives, two cultures dear to my heart.

If you see us, give us a holler! 

Interruptions. The life God is sending us day by day?

 I just got back from Lydia’s greenhouse and had to share something. I experienced Gelassenheit (quietly waiting while putting others first) in action like never before. This is personal, but I’ll share with ‘yinz’.

I cried my eyes out when talking to my Amish friends yesterday, right there in Lydia’s greenhouse. My youngest daughter, Kara, is moving thousands of miles away. Kara, my companion in ‘all things Amish’, has known Lydia since a young teen, but now she’s married with another baby on the way. Her husband, after battling brain cancer over the past 6 months, needs to be in an area where alternative medicine is more readily available.

I just stood there losing it, and Lydia listened, tearing up, helped me pick flowers for a ‘healing garden’. What I forgot all along was her husband pulling his beard, taking it all in. Oh, I felt so insensitive. After my meltdown, Lydia’s husband talked to me for a while about his first wife’s cancer. He accompanied her to Mexico fourteen times on the train to save the Amish community thousands of dollars on chemotherapy and alternative medicine. Alternative medicine had helped extend his first wife’s life.  This man opened a painful chapter in is life to help me get a perspective shift. My dear son-in-law’s cancer was caught, contained and operable. And he needs alternative medicine. And I will live; his children from his first marriage all live just as far away.

Oh, what an emotional day at the Amish greenhouse, but let me tell you, many Amish are concerned for us stressed out Americans. And if you ever stop by a roadside stand, or visit a shop and feel like crying, go right ahead. They’ll listen and quietly wait for you to finish and just be there for you. It’s part of their Gelassenheit, a pause to listen and care for others. Yes, there are grouchy Amish. I’ll blog around Christmas about the Amish in New York that made wooden children’s toys that were meaner than spit, (we told our kids they were Santa’s elves…wink, wink) But it’s a rarity to find a rude Amish person. It’s not part of their upbringing and culture.

I had to create a C.S. Lewis book club into the Smicksburg Tales because I get so much out of his writings. Too profound not quote, so Jeb and Jonas meet to talk about Lewis’ teachings when the women knit. But Lewis is sounding mighty Amish to me lately. Interruptions are a part of Amish life, almost scheduled in. They’re never too busy to talk.  Lydia’s husband (he has a name but says the internet is the devil and doesn’t want his name on it ;) could have kept on doing his accounting for their businesses, but he didn’t. He lived out a Lewis quote:

“The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one's 'own,' or 'real' life. The truth is of course that what one calls the interruptions are precisely one's real life -- the life God is sending one day by day.”

Amish & Choral Singing

“Music is my life,” was my mantra in high school, so starting college as a music major was a no-brainer. When I met my voice teacher, I was so embarrassed for him. He was an extreme stutterer; but when he sang, he was instantly cured. Oh, he was so inspirational. Research suggests there’s a brain overlap with music and speech. Music also has the ability to help dementia patients remember. Music is the last thing to decline in the brain. As a beginning music therapy major, I was floored.

Here’s a snippet of Kimberly Sena Moore Ph. D in Psychology Today’s article Memory through Choir?

“Let’s take choir, for instance. Think about some of the benefits that come from singing in a choir—there’s deep breathing involved (respiratory strength), vocalization (speech production), the need to focus on a given task (sustained attention), the challenge of learning new material (learning and memory), the pleasure derived from performing (emotional benefits, like pride), all within the context of a social group (socialization).”

Pretty impressive, huh? What most don’t realize is that singing is a staple of Amish culture. Singing at home, church, Singings (for youth to meet up) or singing in three-part harmony while working on our barn. It was the most heart-warming look into Amish comradery; I soaked in the beautiful German accapella (no harmonica in tow), closing my eyes and fantasizing once again that I was on the set of Little House on the Prairie.

And then I thought of the joy my kids brought to nursing homes as we tried to be the Von Trapp Family Singers. Patients were wheeled in or used their walkers to get to the lounge room. Tim and I strummed the guitars to slow songs like Kumbaya or Amazing Grace. After a few songs, the audience was so excited, they shouted out, “Play something faster.” So we did and some stood and others clapped their hands. The room was filled with laughter and joy and comradery. To be honest, I didn’t want to expose my kids, then four years old to nine, to the nursing home environment. But after that night, we went back faithfully once a month and my kids learned some valuable lessons from World War II Vets.

A benefit music plays in the Amish church services is the ability to connect with the writers of their hymn book, The Ausbund. The core of it is fifty-one songs written by Anabaptists while imprisoned between 1535 und 1540 because of their convictions. Some didn’t survive and many were martyred. A fresh respect for their ancestors and the courage to keep the faith, solidifies their beliefs.

"Alleluia" oil painting by Thomas Cooper Gotch

Gelassenheit: Serenity in Quietly Waiting, an Amish Way of Thinking

I treasure this trait among the Amish more than anything. Gelassenheit is putting others first, the Golden Rule seen in technicolor among the Amish. When speaking in a group, all eyes are upon you, taking in every word said, and then you may find the ‘Amish pause’. They take to heart what you’ve said and want to give you their full attentive answer.

For example, I asked a man named Levi about what he thought of Old Order Amish verses New Order Amish. He bowed his head, pulled at his beard and said nothing. I thought I’d pushed it this time, asking too many questions or touched a nerve. After a ‘spell’, Levi kindly looked up and said, “I think an older Amish person can explain it better. They’re wiser than I am.”

I almost fainted. Here he was, in his prime at thirty-some years old and he’s saying he doesn’t know it all, that the older the wiser and he meant it.

Gelassenheit is seen in their culture through their personality, yet they have nicknames like ‘Tall Laughing Jonah’. Some are hilarious to talk to, but there’s still that deep down seriousness that comes with being an attentive listener. And if you say something you shouldn’t, they usually just smile, overlooking quickly any hurt or irritation. Talking to Barb, mother of nine, I blurted out, “Oh my goodness you put up the hard way. Have you heard of a vacuum sealer?” Silence and then a smirk from Barb. Her daughters were there and I may have enticed them to dream of greener pastures. Without having to be told to stop tempting her daughters with modern gadgets needing electricity, I got the message. I simply said, “But to each their own, I suppose. Many can with a pressure cooker and love it.”

Gelassenheit in German means ‘serenity’. In the Amish Froschauer (German) Bible they take this virtue from Lamentations 3:26 and it means ‘quietly wait’. So, when I flubbed up in front of Barb’s daughters, she was quietly waiting for me to get the cue to say the right thing: don’t tempt my daughters to go the English route.

Gelassenheit is part of the Amish Ordnung, which is German for order. This serenity or quietly waiting is shown in their simplicity of clothing, house style and having things in common. No competition to keep up with the Schmuckers.

This is not to say that they’ve lost their identity, as so many are known for their unique talents, but their hope is that it all points to their simple lifestyle. By putting others first, Amish businesses don’t believe in ‘extortion’. They say that right out loud. “Why should we charge you too much if we’re happy with our profit.” Again, you just want to hold on to a chair, shocked.

My good friend, Maryann, had to get her entire kitchen replaced due to flooding. She shopped around and was discouraged. Since we go to Smicksburg often, we thought of Amish cabinet and furniture makers. and you they don’t cut corners. (No pun intended) They use real hardwoods and are upfront about costs. They have a yearlong waiting list because Maryann got a custom-made kitchen with over twenty cabinets plus an island as big as a dining room table, installed, for $12,000.00. Let me spell that out if you missed it: twelve-thousand dollars. And her cabinets are cherry!

So how can we embrace this ‘serenity’? For me it’s jumping out of our performance based culture. What you achieve isn’t more important than who you are. Having the biggest house on the block doesn’t mean it’s the happiest one. Finding joy in serving others is what’s important. An Amish proverb, painted on a simple little board, lives on my kitchen window sill. “The most important things are not things.” It brings serenity to my soul every time I wash dishes. 

The slower pace of Amish life lends to 'quietly waiting'. 

A Simple Christmas, the Amish Way

Well, I haven’t blog here in quite a while. Life has thrown is a few curve balls. Our son-in-law was diagnosed with a cancerous brain tumor. Please pray for him. Only twenty-five years old.

Our nephew’s wife became sick in Alaska and they’re living with us with their five little angels, all under ten years old.

I wanted to share with you that I wrote a short eBook that can be bought worldwide. So many from Russia, Ukraine, Latvia and other wonderful countries reading this blog. You can go to Amazon International to see if my book is sold in your area.   It’s my journey towards a peace filled Christmas Amish style. But as learning simplicity seems to be challenge daily, I’ve tweaked our Christmas all the more after reading the blog Embracing a Simpler Life.

Here’s that’s different. I’ve had the tradition of make an Italian cookie. This tradition has been passed down for ages. Centuries. I felt that if I didn’t make pizzelle, it was just not Christmas.

But I love the history of our country, the Colonial American Period. So, I’ve given myself permission to make gingerbread and sugar cookies and not pizzelle. My iron broke and I can't find one of good quality. 

I also have a love for all things British, especially Jane Austen and Charles Dickens,  I plan to make mincemeat pies and maybe a figgy pudding. (If you have a recipe for figgy pudding, a Colonial Christmas favorite, can you put the recipe or link in comments? Thanks!)

It’s so freeing to say that two little word. N-O.

When the new year starts, I’ll be blogging more here. Until then, Merry Christmas! 

Click here to order.

Smicksburg, PA, a little slice of heaven challenged by the Technology Revolution

Living among the Amish in two states, I've admired their unity. But there’s an odd storm brewing.

During the Industrial Revolution, when electricity and phones came into most American homes, the Amish had a debate over what to permit, and in the end they decided to pull back, not wanting to be beholding to anyone, not having monthly bills. Their decisions to not own cars soon followed.

 Now it’s the Technology Revolution and these dear people are challenged like never before; the biggest debate is over cell phones. Our twenty-five year old Amish friend, Joe, got feisty about it last month. My pen pal, Ida, had moved from Smicksburg to Punxsutawney, fifteen miles north, where cell phones are allowed for business. Joe said Ida was no longer Amish. “Amish who use cell phones are not real Amish,” Joe said as he threw up both hands.

Really? Punxsutawney Area Amish say, “We need them to run our businesses, and we only turn them on during business hours.”

But there’s something I admire about the Smicksburg Amish. I don’t know if they remind me of my cousins in rural Italy who want to keep their traditions and their way of life despite the pressure to move to the cities for better jobs. Going there is a time warp back to a time when family and community really mattered. Their traditions still exist, cementing them closer. They even speak a regional dialect of Italian not always understood by other provinces. I find that rather charming.

The Smicksburg Amish charm me, too. They’re trying to live off the land, the fathers being home. They also want their loved one to live nearby, not lured into living in New York where they can make a living by selling organic milk. So, the Amish of Smicksburg worked out a solution with the local government. Electric milk houses now dot the area so milk can easily be collected in tin jugs delivered by horse and buggy. (The state pays for the electricity, not the Amish.)Now many can have as little as dozen dairy cows and provide for their families.

Joe now has a sawmill running that provides for his growing family. His brother Melvin has 12 cows and stays home. Their brother, Noah, who moved to New York to farm, is trying to move back because he can now dairy farm. Not only will the daed’s be home, but the kinner can visit grandpa and grandma by walking down the road. How wonderful.

In Amish Knitting Circle: Smicksburg Tales 1, I show the dangers of cell phones among the Amish and that was written three years ago. Much more is happening, and I think for the “gut”. I’m addressing all this in Amish Knit & Crochet: Smicksburg Tales 5.  What’s happening in Smicksburg, (my little slice of heaven ;) is what’s usually happening in the Smicksburg Tales. 

Heavy milk jugs make for wunderbar gut exercise 

'Englisher' refrigerated milk house where Amish deliver their milk jugs 

Phone shanty attached to an Amish business in Smicksburg

Neatly stacked milk jugs

It's a family affair, the kids 'pulling' their weight ;)  

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Do the Amish celebrate birthdays? Do they attend “Outsider” birthday parties?

The Amish never cease to amaze me on their unique ways of getting together just to have fun and enjoy each others company. I saw on Facebook last week that it was National Sibling Day. It’s a start, but we have a long way to go to catch up with the Amish concerning siblings and celebrations.

The woman I use as the character of Granny Weaver in my novels told me how she and her sisters celebrate birthdays.

Back to Mayberry...oh, the simpler times. 

“Well, it all starts with a surprise,” she quipped, her light blue eyes twinkling. “On the day of a sibling’s birthday, we celebrate, give our loved one’s a present, but we don’t tell them who it’s from.”

“What?” I gasped. “How do they know who to thank and –“

“We all get together in October, or whichever month suits us, and we celebrate Sister Day. On that day we all guess who gave the presents.”

I was too stunned to talk. Some Amish women have several sisters and that would mean they’d have to remember not only what they got, but what they gave. I’m trying to think what I gave my sisters for their birthdays last year! I have two!

“It’s another way to get together,” Granny said with a gleam. “It’s lots of fun and keeps us connected.”

Again, I feel like one of those seekers who want to live with the Amish to see if they can cross over, but I have a husband, adult children and grandkids who’d have to jump the line with me and…well…not anytime soon. ;)

Amish children have birthday parties that take me back to my youth in the 1960s. Levi’s little girl had ten boys and girls running around a water pump when I stopped in to see his father. Oh, that camera of mine makes me sin! I took a few snaps, knowing I’d Photoshop them out, but I got busted and had to delete them. But these children were having fun, the old-fashioned way, like we used to run through the water sprinkler all day with neighborhood kids. Times were simpler.

Well, anyhow, someone called out that it was time for cake and the kids went charging towards the house cheering. I’ve never seen this level of excitement over having a cake before. Levi told me that his wife made a big cake. “The kinner like cake and ICE CREAM!”

Oh, once again, I was 6 years with friends, balloons and a party dress waiting for my mom to bring out her homemade cake with “cooked icing”, my favorite.

I wasn’t invited to go into Levi’s little girl’s party, but recently when at a cabinet shop in Smicksburg, the UPS man shocked me to no end. He opened the door to the shop, slid a small box to one of the Amish workers, and yelled, “The wife’s birthday’s today. Having cake and ICE CREAM! Can you come over?”

Without hesitating, the two men gave their word they’d be there without the “Amish pause”. They don’t say they’ll do something unless they can keep their word. I don’t know if it was their great love for ice cream, or the fact that after supper, the day is pretty much open. Well, when you get up at four in the morning, it should be.

I’ll always be an Amish seeker at heart, trying to glean what I can from their cultures. A simple cake along with ice cream is all that’s needed. 

Mom's 1960s cake pan. I used it to make my granddaughter a birthday cake.
Passing down memories (and pans that actually hold up! ;) 

Do the Amish pay taxes?

“I pay school tax and our kinner don’t even go to public school,” is a common gripe among the Amish. “We pay two school taxes, one for public and one for our own one-room schoolhouses and the teachers’ pay.” If you ever want to hear an Amish person talk fast, just ask about taxes. You’ll see how spirited they can get.

The notion that Amish don’t pay taxes is a pet peeve among them. They never want to be accused of mooching off of anyone, paying their fair share. They pay all taxes except social security, and here’s the rub. Our government agreed to them not paying social security because they have a good track record of taking care of their elderly. It’s on religious grounds, but I wonder why other Christians can’t do the same.  

I went to a funeral a month ago for a dear friend who suffered a stroke at 72 and for the next ten years his wife refused to put him in a nursing home, taking care of him herself, along with help from family. This is a bunny trail away from what the Amish pay in taxes, but there are more and more Americans taking care of their elderly. Maybe there needs to be a revision in what we pay into social security if we sign a paper stating we’ll take care of our own.

When I lived in Ellington, NY, people would complain that the Amish don’t pay taxes but get all the benefits: paved roads, bridges, telephone lines to their phone shanties. I believed this at first, but then I asked Amish friends and oh boy do they get fired up. The Amish pay taxes for all infrastructure needs…cough, couch…electric lines they don’t use…but they don’t have to pay for social security.

On this blog I sometimes mention Noah, a young man in this 30’s now who helped remodel our house and practically lived with us for two months. Well, he’s trying to move back to Smicksburg because his land taxes went up in New York.  Yes, the Amish can lose their farms and homes like anyone else if taxes aren't paid.

So, if anyone accuses “those Amish” people of having it so easy, being able to live off the grid because of no taxes, well, you can defend them. I think people are so spitting mad about how much we pay for taxes in America they want to blame someone, and unfortunately, it’s sometimes the Amish.

Fannie's quilt shop in Smicksburg helps make ends meet. Jah, they have a tax bills to pay. 

Amish children walking home from the one-room schoolhouse their parents pay for along with the teacher's salary.

Amish men enjoying the roads free from pot holes, at least for a while, with the help of their tax money.