Runaway Amish Girl

by Emma Gingerich

  I made my way back to the basket shop where I found Sarah hammering nails into the workbench.

  “Sarah? The nails don’t go in there, you are wasting them.”

  Sarah shyly answered, “I know, I just felt like hammering something.”

  I did not dare say anything else. I knew she was scared, but I did not know how to make her feel better. Besides, I had a knot in my stomach and did not feel like telling her everything was going to be fine when I was not too sure myself.

  Finally, after sitting in silence for a while, Sarah asked, “Did you call Roger?”

  “Yes, I did, and he told me no.”

  Sarah looked at me alarmed. “So now what?”

  “I called someone else south of Bethany, and a lady agreed to pick me up at two o’clock. I am going to walk to Blythedale and she will meet me at the bank. I will have to leave at 12:30.”

  Sarah did not say anything. She did not have to; her expression told me what was going through her mind. I was thinking Oh my gosh, I will miss her so much. I looked at her beautiful blue eyes, at her blonde hair. She had always been the funny one, cracking jokes and saying the darndest things. If I got into trouble, she was in it too. As we grew older, we both had grown to hate Datt with a passion. We thought he was just too lazy, and many times he pretended to be sick so we would do his work. He started doing this when his kids were old enough to keep up with the farm and bring home the income. Sarah interrupted my thoughts when she told me she was going into the house to get lunch ready.

  “I will be there in a minute to help you,” I yelled as she ran out the door and looked back just long enough to give me a smile. At least she is trying to be cheerful, I thought. I looked around the basket shop, thinking, What a mess this building has become. The material we used to make the baskets lay scattered all over the floor, with a path just wide enough to walk from the chair I sat in to the door. I was so tired of making baskets. Mem had become dependent on me to be the main basket-maker, and I thought maybe after I left the business would go to nothing. The thought scared me.

  I scrambled up and started to walk to the house. I did not want to think about what was going to happen because I knew I would feel sad for leaving Mem with the workload. I already knew leaving the Amish would completely crush Mem, and that was all I could bear to think about.

  After we finished lunch and washed the dishes, I had thirty minutes to get ready. I did not eat much because my nerves were starting to take over my whole body. Sarah talked and laughed as if nothing unusual was about to happen. It warmed my heart to see she was able to act normally so the rest of the kids would not notice something was about to happen.

  I climbed the stairs one more time to get my small stash of money I had saved from making little craft projects and selling them at the truck stop. I lingered in my room knowing it would be the last time. I had spent many nights here, crying and praying in secret. It was the only place I could be alone and vent to the walls to make me feel like I was winning.

  I took off my white cap and stared at it for a second. “This is the last time I ever hope to see you again,” I muttered quietly. I hated when Saturdays came because that meant I had to iron a cap and sit at a table aimlessly putting pleats in the back. I was never successful with it like Rhoda was with hers. The pleats had to be a certain size and the cap had to fit just perfectly to cover up my hair. Satisfied with my last complaint, I put my cap in the bottom drawer. I did not need it—I would wear a scarf instead.

  When I left the room, relief flooded over me. I knew in that moment I was doing the right thing. I walked downstairs and into the living room. Sam sat in the lazy chair taking his lunch break before going back to work. Rhoda sat in the living room too, reading a book. I grabbed a pen and paper from a table and wrote a note to my parents in English.

  Mom and Dad;

  The time has come for me to leave, I am not happy here anymore. I am sorry to do this to you but I need to try a different life. Don’t be worried about me, I will be OK.

  Emma

  I folded the paper and laid it on the table. I then told Sam to make sure Mem and Datt got the note. I turned around and left the room before he could ask anything. He had no clue what I was about to do. Sarah stood in the doorway and heard what I had said to Sam. Her face was red and I could not bring myself to say goodbye to her. Nevertheless, I felt good she knew what I was doing, but at the same time I wondered what kind of pain I was now causing her. Everyone knew Sarah and I were close to each other, so what I was about to do put the weight of my actions on her shoulders.

  So at 12:30 in the afternoon, I walked out the door and left forever the only life I had ever known.

  §

  I made my way across the driveway into the shop and ran out the back door. I sprinted across a roughly-plowed field, the dry chunks of clay making me stumble. I hurried through a barbwire fence and onto the gravel road. As I got to a patch of trees close to the road, I slowed down; I wanted to get as far as possible before someone saw me. It seemed like everything was meant for me to leave this day, at this exact moment. The Bylers, our only Amish neighbor, were not at home. Thank God. I would have had to plan a different route if they had been home because there was no way I could have snuck by their place without them seeing me.

  I was about a mile down the road when I heard a horse galloping up behind me. I turned around to see my brother, Sam, sitting tall on the horse’s back, breathing hard.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  Oh dear, he is actually worried about me; it looks like he is more scared than I am. I quickly gathered my thoughts and said, “Someone is going to pick me up and I won’t tell just yet where I will be at. You shouldn’t have bothered to come after me.”

  “Rhoda wanted me to ask you what you think you’re doing. She read the note you left for Mom and Dad,” he said, trying to catch his breath.

  “I made up my mind that I am going to leave the Amish and there is nothing you can do to convince me otherwise. I have to find a different life — I am not happy at home anymore.”

  Sam looked at me. “Okay,” he finally said. “Machts gute, take care.” With that he turned around and slowly headed back. I stood and watched him until he was out of sight. I felt sorry for him, because he obviously was very concerned about my decision.

  As I continued walking, I couldn’t forget Sam’s pale face as he rode away, his straw hat pulled down over his brow. I always thought Sam would run away from home before I did. He never discussed anything like that with me, but it could very well have happened because he was so unhappy at home during his first year out of school. He had a bad temper and often got in fights with Datt. But later he got a job at a steel roof shop and he gradually became a happier person.

  As I walked it began to sink in that I was really leaving the Amish, and it was not just a nightmare; instead, it was a dream-come-true. I walked for a total of an hour and a half, and I arrived at the pickup spot a little early. I stood outside the bank, watching cars go by and thinking this was so unreal. I hoped I would soon be driving too. I wondered how easy it would be to switch from driving a horse to driving a car. A red Ford pickup slowly rolled by, and the lady driving the truck looked around as if she was unsure of where to go. I had a feeling it was my ride. My heart pounded harder as the lady came back and turned into the bank parking lot. Yes, this surely has to be the person to pick me up.

  I walked up to her and started talking, and confirmed she was who I thought she was. The woman’s name was Kate, and she told me to get in on the passenger side.

  “Are you sure you still want to do this?” she asked, looking serious, as I climbed in.

  “Yes, I am definitely sure.”

  “Okay, I just wanted to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

  As Kate backed out of the parking lot and turned right onto the highway, I felt a strong sense of relief. I had been on this road many times with a horse and buggy, and if everything went o
kay, the next time I came through town I would be driving a vehicle with four tires and no horse.

  When I got to her house, she introduced me to her little family and then she asked if I was ready to change into different clothes. She said, “There are clothes in this bag that you can pick from.”

  I looked down at my long dress and black lace-up shoes and thought of the many times I wanted to get rid of them. I was tired of sewing dresses and making sure they fit properly so I wouldn’t hear complaints from the snobs.

  “Yes, I am ready,” I answered. I got a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt out of the bag, and then Kate walked with me to the bathroom. To make sure the children wouldn’t hear, she whispered, “Are you wearing a bra?”

  “Yes, I managed to get one bra,” I answered shyly — I wasn’t comfortable talking about womanly things.

  “I knew Amish women did not wear bras, so I was wondering if you knew how to wear one. Tomorrow we will go shopping for undergarments and other clothes you might need.” She smiled as she handed me some towels and demonstrated how the shower worked. Then she showed me a razor and shaving cream and said, “You might want to consider shaving, and in case you don’t know, that is deodorant.” She pointed to a funny-shaped bottle sitting on the bathroom counter. “If you need anything, I will be in the living room.” Still smiling, she closed the door and left me standing in the bathroom, speechless.

  I couldn’t utter a word to her. This was so overwhelming — I had never taken a shower with faucets and running water. It had always been a metal bathtub sitting in the washroom, and I had to carry water with a bucket. Amish women don’t shave, and I began to wonder if it was true about what I had heard about the “English world,” that women shaved their legs and underarms. I didn’t have facial hair, so what else could this razor and cream be for if it was not to shave my legs? I was really scared to do it.

  And then there was the deodorant. My word. What is this stuff for? I remembered the one time I found something similar in Jacob’s drawer, but he was trying to keep it hidden. I didn’t have the nerve to ask him what it was because I didn’t want him to know I saw it. I knew anything hidden meant it was private. I always just assumed that since he was dating a girl, it had something to do with her. Now here I was standing in front of the little bottle, not knowing what it could be. I picked it up and read the label and I was able to determine what it was used for.

  By the time I processed everything I began to feel pressure in my head. This was a lot of information for me to have to figure out and not make a complete fool out of myself. I turned on the water in the shower then wondered if I was supposed to shave first and then take a shower. This was getting too confusing. I am not going to shave now, I need some more time to think about it, I thought.

  After the shower, I got my only pair of panties out of my dress pocket. I am not going to wear the Amish handmade shorts anymore, I thought. About six months ago I was in town by myself and was in a second-hand store looking around. I wanted to buy some clothes but didn’t know how I would get them into the house without my mem seeing them. Then I came across some bras and decided they were small enough to hide. The only problem was, I had no clue what size to get. Finally I just grabbed one, along with a pair of panties, and hoped they would fit. The clerk looked at me strangely when I checked out. I guess she knew that Amish women didn’t wear this stuff. After I had gotten my possessions safely home and hidden in my room, I started the process of figuring out how to wear a bra and wondering when the day would come for me to wear it.

  I hurriedly put on the jeans and shirt, and brushed my towel-dried hair. This time I would be leaving my hair down; no more fixing it up in a bun and covering it up with a bonnet. No more boundaries, I thought as I peeked in the mirror. I looked tired. Being a runaway girl was really exhausting me. I was not sure what to think about my different appearance. I was scared to look in the mirror too much. I felt proud to have gotten this far, but yet I was still stunned from all the different things I had processed so far that day. Maybe all this will sink in tomorrow.

  I must have been in the bathroom for over an hour, much longer than I had ever been in a bathroom. At home, the outhouse was not a place I wanted to linger for too long.

  That night I fell asleep as soon as I hit the bed. I was too exhausted and ecstatic to think much about my family. They seemed to be so far away from my thoughts.

  I awoke with the bright morning sun shining in the window. I peeked outside and saw that sometime during the night it had snowed a little, making everything look glistening and clean. The millions of sparkling snow crystals told me that more angels than I could count were there to protect me and to welcome me into the new world. I had slept better than I had in a long time, and now I started to wonder what was going on at home.

  I imagined my mem not sleeping at all, her eyes red from crying all night. She probably didn’t have enough energy to make breakfast. I had an awful feeling about how she was taking it. Mem worked hard her whole life and always did what she could to keep food on the table. She was not as strict as Datt, but if she got upset about something, it was time to straighten up fast. I could picture my datt, sitting in his usual chair smoking his pipe after interrogating Sarah for information about my whereabouts. Of course, Sarah didn’t know exactly where I was, so I wasn’t worried that he would find me before I left the area to start my new life. I had warned Sarah that she would be the first to be questioned. While she assured me she could handle the pressure, I began to worry that Dad might lose his temper and hit her if she didn’t tell him everything. I knew Sarah would stand her ground and not give him any more information than she had to, and I knew that that could get her in trouble. I closed my eyes and said a prayer for her.

  By now I heard noise coming from downstairs and I decided to put my family thoughts behind me and focus on the new day. I could not wait to go shopping — it would feel so good to be dressed in pants and a shirt, and let my long hair get some fresh air. All this sounded like freedom. I was in a cocoon yesterday, I thought, and today I emerged as a butterfly. This is what freedom felt like. At last.

  Chapter 7:

  Nothing Can Break Me

  It’s amazing how things can change when

  you embrace reality.

  ~Steve Maraboli~

  It is not how high I climb, nor how far I go; the true measure of me as a person is how far I bounce after a fall, and whether or not I land on my feet. I believe I landed on my feet after a very high bounce. I still wonder how I had the nerve to just walk away from the only life I ever knew. Had I known a day in advance I was leaving the next day, would I have had second thoughts and changed my mind? Possibly. I knew my break was going to happen sooner or later, but I had expected to know at least a few days in advance. Nevertheless, the doors had swung wide open when I woke up that one beautiful morning, and in my mind I saw a sign that said Get your butt out of here while you have the chance. When I walked away that day, it felt meant to be, yet the future was very unclear. I had years to plan my future, but I could not plan it because I did not know what was available to me out in the new world.

  I had no idea what was going to happen or where I would end up, but I found a great and encouraging family to help me off to a good start. After lying low in Missouri for a little over two weeks, I got word from a cousin who had left the Amish several years before me that my parents were searching for me high and low. I wanted to get as far away as possible before I let them know where I was. It was not long until my new family offered to give me a ride to Texas where they had some acquaintances, Noel and Irma Wiley. It was a coincidence I knew them too. I had met Noel and Irma very briefly in 2005 when they brought horses to our farm for my brothers to break so they could be ridden and used to pull a buggy. Texas was farther away from home than I had ever expected to go, but since I wanted to get away from everything, it turned out to be perfect.

  I took the offer and ended up in San Benito, close to South Padre Is
land and the Mexico border. On our trip we stopped at the Alamo in San Antonio. I was not prepared for what I was about to see and learn while walking through this sacred building. I had no idea people fought and shot each other in real life. It made me dizzy and emotional as I learned about the Texas Revolution. Amish people were not taught any history about wars or about the world in general. History of the modern world was considered irrelevant to our community.

  When we made it to the Rio Grande Valley, the Wiley’s agreed to give me a place to stay in San Benito. They were still strangers to me, but I knew if I wanted to begin my new life, I would have to take any opportunity God handed to me. I knew my parents were very heartbroken and needing answers, but I waited until I was safely in Texas before I wrote them a letter. I hoped it would comfort them to know I was being taken care of by a family they knew. The ideal situation would have been a face-to-face conversation with my parents before I left for Texas, but I knew Datt would take every opportunity to drag me back home. I could not let that happen.

  Soon after I got to San Benito I moved into a small apartment the Wiley’s owned. I went to work for their daughter, Laura Jo, cleaning the newly-built houses in their subdivision. Laura Jo became like a mother and best friend to me. She was in her late forties and married to a wonderful man, and they had two grown children. I was convinced God had sent me here for a reason. She loved to introduce me to new things such as food and movies, but the best introduction to my new life happened when she showed me her contact lenses.

  I sat in a restaurant eating dinner with Laura Jo and her husband, Bill, when they tried to convince me some people wore contact lenses instead of glasses. I did not know what contacts looked like so Laura Jo proceeded to take hers out. As soon as she removed it, I screamed and jumped out of my chair. I thought she had taken her eyeball out! I had worn glasses since I was thirteen and I had never heard of any alternative; I made a vow then and there I would never wear contacts. In reality, that vow only lasted eight months, and I have been wearing contact lenses ever since.