My Life as An Amish Wife

by Lena Yoder

  Through this ordeal with Sam, my sister Sue said they had a stray that needed a home. The dog needs children to play with, and they think she’s the dog for us. The girls desperately want the dog, and Brian just as strongly does not want it. He’s afraid the girls will not give Sam the attention he needs to get better, plus Sam might feel betrayed. But the girls say their hearts are big enough for two dogs. Who will win? Daddy says the girls win. The girls say Brian will fall in love with the new dog. The little girls say her name will be Mandy. Colleen says she has to see and spend time with her before we can name her. What does this mama say? I choose to stay out of it because I really don’t relish the thought of two dogs, especially one still in the puppy stage. I know a lot of the training will fall on my shoulders because I’m the one who’s home all the time. So I left the decision up to Wayne and will try to be satisfied.

  We have been happy with the nice hay we were able to put up for the first and second cuttings. While walking through the fields to pick black raspberries, I noticed the next cutting looks really nice too. Next on the list is corn harvest—a busy time of the year but very satisfying.

  I will definitely miss the little girls helping when they’re back in school. They can make a lot of steps for me, especially during canning season. This year Karah is in fifth grade, Emily in third grade, and Jolisa in second grade. With Wayne and Colleen working off the farm, it’ll be me and the boys at home during the forenoon. I will enjoy that too. I hope I can fully grasp the golden opportunity this is.

  Year 4

  Fall

  This has definitely been the summer of the dogs. The dog days of summer were warm, really warm, and I loved it. My fingers and toes were even warm.

  Our faithful friend Sam that got hit on the road died a week and a half after the accident. I think the birds on our farm even mourned. I know we all did. He was quite the dog.

  That stray terrier dog that Colleen brought home is quite the dog too. She’s downright ugly and messes in our mudroom every night. (Wayne’s dogs have to sleep in there.) Yet some of us kind of like her. I don’t want to keep her, as she works on my nerves, yet she is kind of sweet. We all named her Mandy. The flowers here by the house are the only ones that grow nice on the whole place, as the rest of the flower beds are thick with tree roots, but now Mandy digs around in these nice ones, breaking off and squashing down the flowers. They’re not nice anymore, plus the walks are always dirty from her messes.

  I can’t blame it all on Mandy because we do have another Lab-mix pup. This one is black and already big for his two months of age. A neighbor boy came across this one, brought him home, and we bought him. We were tickled pink. Then the arguments began in earnest. What shall we name this dog?

  I wanted to name him Ben. A big, black Lab dog needs a masculine name, not some sort of Tippy, Frisky, or Buddy sort of name. Nobody seemed to agree with my choice. The name choices flew wildly around the house—and always a negative response echoed from somewhere. Someway, somehow “Jacob” stuck. Now he goes by Jacob, and sometimes I hear Jake. That’s okay with me. Now, if only he’d stay out of the flower beds and not mess in the mudroom. The mudroom is actually cleaner than normal because after the men dispose of the offenses, I scrub it down with strong soap water. Hopefully the dogs will be potty trained soon. I do like a good dog. I just wish they’d come already trained, all grown up, and melded into the family. I’m never that lucky.

  Colleen, a major dog lover, still dreams of owning a Yorkie. Upon coming home from work she always stops to give the dogs some attention before coming into the house. Yorkies are pretty expensive, so I doubt her dream will ever come true.

  The heat of this summer, plus the nice rains we received, was good for the crops through this area. There are beautiful fields of corn and hay. I noticed a lot of oats were harvested too. I also saw some really poor fields. One of ours that was planted, and then we got a lot of rain, just had a hard time of it.

  This summer was so beautiful weather-wise. I enjoy spending time outside working in the garden, the yard, and helping in the hayfield. It was just simply nice to be outside, but it was all dampened by the turbulent times we live in. There were many deaths among our people. That is from God. Then there are so many leaving our faith searching for something better. Where can we find peace in broken promises?

  Wayne and I were to Iowa to a funeral of a friend who was attacked by a bull. She died three days after the attack. Such a sad accident. Many, many people traveled many miles to show their love. To see over 1100 people gathered in one big circle, surrounding the family of nine children, four in-laws, the husband, and two grandchildren was overwhelming. The love of God is still pulling us together and ever closer to him. I ached for the family. I know what it is like to say goodbye to your mom, and yet I know peace in accepting God’s will. It’s not always easy, but we are promised we will not go this road alone. The Lord is with us.

  In the sermon at the funeral, one of the ministers came across the topic of the prodigal son. I was so agreed, and he illustrated it in such an interesting fashion. If you look up the word “prodigal” in the dictionary, it tells you: 1) Addicted to wasteful expenditure, as of money, time, or strength; extravagant. 2) Yielding in profusion; bountiful. 3) Lavish; profuse. One who is wasteful or profligate; a spendthrift. (A “profligate” is lost or insensible to principle, virtue, or decency, a reckless spendthrift, recklessly extravagant.)

  I found it necessary to examine myself. Do I have anything in my house, our farm, our clothes, and our mode of transportation that is extravagant? How much money do I spend on things not necessary because I want things to look nice? How many dishes of food do I prepare that are too lavish and not just for the healthy nourishment of our bodies? How much money do we spend on a fancy horse and buggy to be noticed by others? Do we have more clothes than we really need? Is our house in the latest fashion? The list could go on and on. Moderation, moderation, moderation.

  Duties continue to call. This week I baked a double-batch of pumpkin whoopee pies. Poof, those were gone! I’d also doubled the frosting recipe and had a lot left over. Now this morning Brian suggested I bake Little Debbie cookies and use the leftover frosting. I thought it was a good suggestion. I think I will appease him. He needs to till the garden for me today, so he will be hungry as always. I can’t imagine having several adolescent boys to feed and clothe. It would be interesting, though.

  There are dishes to put away, peaches to peel, ironing to do, tomatoes and cucumbers to bring in from the garden, dresses to lengthen for Karah, Emily, and Jolisa. The list goes on from one day to the next. I love my calling.

  Karah, Emily, and Jolisa have been on a card-making frenzy. They spend a lot of time at the table on our porch cutting, pasting, stamping, and conversing. They dream of having a card-making business. They actually did get to sell some, thanks to grandparents, aunts, and friends.

  I remember as a young girl dreaming of making and selling all kinds of things. Some of these dreams actually materialized and proved to be profitable. Lemonade sales were my first business. Busloads of tourists would come to my grandmother’s quilt shop, and I’m guessing some people drank lemonade who didn’t even like it. Who could refuse a chubby, dimple-cheeked little girl’s lemonade all the way out in the country with no other customers in sight? It was fun.

  You should hear Jolisa and Jesse having a major giggling fit while tearing around the house. Jolisa is lying on her tummy on an old throw blanket, arms outstretched, hanging on to an upside down barstool that Jesse is using to pull her around the house. Around and around the circle consisting of the living room, kitchen, and porch they go. The noise level could stand downgrading several decibels, but I’ve decided to let them have fun. The blanket is worn anyway and the floor is clean, so they can giggle to their hearts’ content.

  Karah is at the table on the porch crafting unique greeting cards, which she loves doing.

  Emily is relaxing on the living room rug, reading the latest
edition of the School Echoes, a very worthwhile monthly publication taking in the Amish private schools in our community.

  Brian is also reading. The local paper is his focal point. I’m guessing the sports pages are pretty well read word-for-word. He knows all sorts of sports facts—names, dates, you name it and he knows it. Sometimes he tells me things about a certain player or team. I listen but promptly forget because I have no more interest in such things. I don’t mind listening to him though, as long as he still thinks I’m the most important person to talk too.

  Colleen went to a friend’s house for a girls’ night out. They had plans to drive from there to Goshen for supper and some shopping.

  Wayne went to the men’s hymn practice.

  Our five youngest think we live the most mundane, boring lives of all. We don’t even compare to anyone else. The girls claim they never have anything exciting to tell their peers at school. Huh uh… never. Ernest’s whole family went to the zoo. Harley’s family all went to Chicago, and so go the stories. Yes, dears, maybe someday we can do that too.

  When I point out our blessings, the children sigh. Emily might stomp her feet and declare, “I know, Mom, but so and so and so…” Oh, to teach my children true contentment in a materialized world. It is a blessing when our lives are normal and routine, even though boring. In fact, I can easily say I have never been bored, but my children sometimes think they are.

  We never know when our lives could so drastically change; therefore, I am so thankful for each ordinary day. I firmly believe the more social events we plan, the more we have going, the bolder our children become. It’s great to be satisfied at home.

  We hear so many sad stories these days. Turmoil is all across the land. As the Christian churches are, so is the government. But let us dwell on the goodness around us. We are commanded to be joyful! For starters, we can find so much joy in our church services where we still hear the gospel. The flat out, full and simple gospel. Salvation. The plan. We are blessed with many sincere men who fervently seek and then share the message with us. I also find joy in the fellowship meal we all share.

  I find joy in the ice-cream socials our neighborhood has during the summer months. Our comradeship is something to be thankful for. If I need to borrow something, I feel comfortable to go to any of my neighbors and ask. When we harvest, who helps? Our neighbors. We are supported by neighbors from birth, baptism, wedding, sickness, accidents, death—it makes no difference what the occasion. We are supported in love.

  Many kind deeds are performed daily, quietly, joyously. Friendly smiles. Waves shared as we travel on the roads. These are things to rejoice in. Let’s practice to dwell in these things instead of the gloominess we hear about.

  Now, back to the scenes around me. Jolisa is taking a bath, loudly humming a medley of tunes. She can so easily entertain herself. In fact she loves to spend time by herself. The last two evenings, after school snacks and the chores she had to do, we all of a sudden realized we could not find her. We searched and called. We then thought she was back in the field with her daddy, but Karah had just come from back there and said she wasn’t. We had called upstairs but not looked, so Colleen went upstairs and found her asleep on her bed. The second evening it didn’t take us so long to find her. I guess her schoolwork wears her out. Emily and Jesse have a “homeless” shelter set up with blankets arranged over chairs, with the only possessions they own in their house. Lately we had a discussion on homeless people, so the subject is fresh in their minds.

  Ten minutes to bedtime for the schoolgirls, so one by one they are taking their baths.

  After supper and doing the dishes I went on my two-mile walk. My family thought I was pretty daft, as it was raining hard, but I needed to get out of the house to clear my mind. While walking along, a minivan pulled up alongside me. I was surprised to see a former neighbor from my childhood days. We visited as fast as we could while I walked, making my walk in the rain doubly worthwhile. I came back to the house refreshed.

  The dogs… yes, we still have the dogs. I don’t plan on getting rid of Jacob, but Mandy, oh, I don’t know. She’s not so bad, and yet are we actually going to keep her? Jesse says we are; she’s his friend. Brian says we aren’t; she’s in his way. I know one thing—she is ugly… so ugly, in fact, she’s almost cute. I wish somebody would come get her, giving her a good home where she is wanted 100 percent. She loves playing with the children, giving them hugs in the morning or when we come home. Yet she can get pretty feisty when a stranger comes calling. She has her property marked and shows her loyalty and devotion to us. She loves to be bathed, but for me, I’m now enjoying the fact that my children are all able to bathe themselves. Spending time to bathe a dog? Are you kidding? Plus, she is an outside dog if she’s living here, so she would look best bathed every day. I don’t think so.

  Jacob, on the other hand, is a big black, calm Lab. He too gives out hugs and sloppy kisses. He clearly adores all who live here. He reminds me a lot of Sam. We are definitely hooked on Labs. Today he helped Brian, Jesse, and me get a stray heifer to the place she was supposed to be. That made Jesse’s day. He’s pretty attached to his dogs.

  As the children say, we are pretty boring. This time of the year, farmwork consists of hauling manure, feeding the 90 heifers, taking care of a dozen horses, and dealing with the two dogs. Then we haul manure, feed the heifers, the horses, and the dogs, scrape the barns, and haul more manure. A blessing… a blessing indeed.

  My heart is overflowing with feelings equaling goodwill and love for the people I was privileged to be involved with this past week. I’m seriously working on training my mind to think on the good in my life. The bad thoughts often threaten to overwhelm me, but I pray for guidance, for the good to take control, and to be truly happy.

  Sunday forenoon, the beginning of a very busy week, we spent resting and reading at home. We enjoyed a brunch of grilled sausage patties (from the freezer), tomato gravy (fruit from the basement), and also fried potatoes (also summer bounty stored in the basement). In the afternoon we went to meet little Evan Matthew, the newest member of Wayne’s niece JoEllen’s family.

  Monday was a beautiful wash day. Colleen wasn’t working at the bakery that day, so she had the honor of filling the wash lines. In the evening was our monthly neighborhood gathering. I love these evenings except for the temptation of overindulging on the many delicious baked foods. I try to keep in mind Jesus’ thoughts on taking care of our God-given temples. Do I need this or do I want this?

  Tuesday I enjoyed cleaning the house a bit and preparing food for a surprise birthday party for Colleen. She is 17 already. A story all her own! She worked at the bakery that day, so once she got home she pampered herself with a nap. That gave me the opportunity to continue on with preparations and she stayed clueless. We’d invited Wayne’s married nieces and nephews, and those with the youth. There were more than 40 people here! Colleen was surprised, and we immensely enjoyed our evening.

  Wednesday Colleen was home to do laundry again. I canned applesauce and did various odd jobs that go with my occupation. We spent a deliciously lazy evening at home in the living room.

  Thursday I canned apple-pie filling. Brian helped me out with that. I made apple crisp to take along to a friend’s birthday surprise in the evening.

  Friday morning I got to do the laundry, and then we cleaned house again. “We” being Brain and me. We had another birthday surprise planned for Colleen. We’d invited her friend Julie, Julie’s boyfriend, Julie’s parents and siblings, and another family of friends. I think Colleen had a good birthday.

  Believe me when I say we hardly ever have more social plans then three or four evenings in a month. The children thought we were having a great time with plans four times in one week. They did pretty well with getting up in decent time for school in the morning, but they didn’t have to do all the laundry, shopping, and other prepping our schedule created.

  Friday evening after the company left, Wayne stretched out on the livin
g room rug to relax while I finished cleaning up the house. He must have dozed off into a very deep slumber, as I told him a buggy drove in and he didn’t respond. I got more aggressive. In an urgent voice I told him a buggy drove in and a guy was coming to the door. Wayne jumped up and came flying to the kitchen all wide-eyed and asking, “What is going on?” It was a neighbor asking to borrow a piece of equipment the next day. The guy left and Wayne told me he thought I had said the heifers were out and there was one up here by the door. It was high time to get him to bed.

  Saturday morning we got up early again, as we wanted to be on the road by 7:00. Wayne’s brother, on the home place, wanted help with replacing some roofs, so they had a workday for Wayne’s siblings. We ladies went along and helped Wayne’s mom do some cleaning for church. We all enjoyed our day and wondered why we don’t do things like that more often.

  After lunch, Emily and I borrowed two of their bikes and biked to town for a few groceries. We fit our purchases in our bike baskets. I left the store feeling highly frustrated at having spent $60. I most certainly didn’t get anything gourmet.

  With field work at a standstill, Brian has more time on his hands than ever before. I can’t handle someone just lying around during the day, so he’s learning some new trades. He’s discovered the joys of washing dishes, sweeping and mopping the floors, helping with the laundry, and doing some simple meal preparations—not to mention going to town with me to take care of the horse. I seem to be getting lazier by the day. He is so used to helping with the farmwork that he had thought of being incapable or it being only halfway necessary to be doing housework. But, hey, he won’t ever be sorry to have learned. He doesn’t know it yet, but I have great plans for him once I start washing off the walls and ceilings for church.