My Life as An Amish Wife

by Lena Yoder

  Tomorrow I’ll take hot lunches for the children and go to school. Two other mothers also participate. It’s always a busy day, but I do enjoy it. I’ll take a potato-and-meat casserole and dirt pudding. Hot lunch is always a highlight for the children and provides a break for the mothers because they don’t have to pack lunches.

  Jesse is bored right now. He’s bringing me a book to show me things. Next he is snooping around in drawers trying to find things to dismantle. Next he eats a pack of fruit snacks. He keeps saying, “Mom!” every few seconds it seems. He’s lit a candle for me. Now he decided to go bother his Aunt Ida. Most days he can keep busy, but it seems when I am writing it bores him.

  Five days a week I get out of bed at 3:20, fix Colleen’s lunch, and then slip back into bed until Wayne’s alarm goes off at 3:45. I make breakfast, coffee, and fill Wayne’s water jug. We pray together and then I go to bed again. Ridiculous. I really should stay up, but my true nature of not being a morning person shines through.

  One morning at 4:30, my sister Ida knocked on my bedroom window and told me the horses were all out on the road. Oh no! I yelled up the stairway for Brian and Karah for help. I knew there was a lot of traffic on the road that time of the morning. Lord, please help us! I slipped on a coat, scarf, and boots and headed out the north door. Luckily I got them headed back, and the rest helped herd them in without much of a problem. Ida had stopped a truck, and the fellow patiently waited until the road was clear. My lungs hurt that entire day. I’m not used to jumping out of bed and hitting 80 miles an hour in the cold, early morning air. I did not go back to bed again.

  Once the girls get home from school, Karah and I need to go get her new Sunday shoes. It’s amazing how when one mentions the fact that she needs new shoes, immediately two others are also in dire need of some. They didn’t holler too loudly this time because Emily just got a pair of new school shoes and Jolisa a pair of Sunday shoes.

  Jesse loves playing in the snow this winter. The other morning he was outside playing well before daylight. He and our black Lab, Jacob, are best buds.

  Jacob has been opening the north porch door every time we forget to lock it. He loves to come inside and knows exactly where the cookie jar is. He understands many things about us, including our routine. I dare to disagree that dogs cannot understand us or that they cannot feel emotions. But as smart as he is, I do not need him in the house.

  Year 6

  Spring

  As we enter into March, have you been able to keep your New Year’s resolutions? I’m struggling, but I am not giving up yet. We don’t have to expect perfection immediately, but an attitude of willingness will help us succeed. One of my resolutions was to reach out more to others around me. My thoughts often travel to my friends, neighbors, shut-ins… and the list goes on… but I don’t let these people know. I am so satisfied at home and going about my own business, and that is important, but we are to help each other along life’s way.

  Sometimes I wonder where the fine line is of being too satisfied at home. I am a firm believer of Titus 2. We can read in Scripture of being “busybodies,” and I have no desire to be labeled as such. Yet I do want to help others, to be available, to even just listen if that is what it takes. Friends have often carried me through rough times, and I want to be a friend, neighbor, mother, and sister like that too.

  On my birthday I was privileged to spend the evening with all my sisters sitting around my kitchen table. That was awesome! With Freda 800 miles away, that does not happen often. My brothers-in-law, my dad and Alice, my children, my niece Karen and her husband and son were also here. I made soft pretzels for everyone, and they brought snacks along. After going out for dinner, we sat around the table and the conversation flowed. We laughed until our sides ached. It was great. I really needed that.

  That subject runs into my resolution of making healthier choices again. I have no desire to gain back the 60 pounds I’ve lost. But it was a treat to go out to eat, relax, and eat someone else’s cooking for a change. Restaurant menus have healthy choices too. It’s up to us to make the right choices. Sometimes I throw all caution to the wind, splurge, and then get back on track the next day.

  For a long time I’d been dreaming of having an old barn beam put along our east kitchen wall to be used as a shelf. I was keenly reminded this fall at Wayne’s niece’s wedding. Wayne’s brother had fixed up the reception area with old barn beams. I reminded Wayne about my dream. His brother even offered us a beam. I didn’t bank on my dream too hard because I really doubted that it would happen. Shame on me.

  Fast-forward to my cousin’s house at our Christmas gathering. Wayne called to my attention the shelves they have in their entrance. They are made of rough-sawn lumber. I really liked those too, and agreed with Wayne they’d be much easier to build than the old heavy barn beams. I teased him about getting it done. His time is so precious, with working in the RV factory plus farming.

  Well, one of the first nights the very next week, Wayne called me to come outside to check out the old wood he had found. Do I approve? I still didn’t get too excited, but I did agree it was perfect. We put the plans together. A wide plank for the back, an eight-inch plank for the shelf, and we planned how he would make the braces. By then I did get excited!

  The next day we had to go to town, so I got paint to paint that wall to ready it for the shelf. I painted it a brownish tan. On that Saturday, Wayne and Brian fastened the shelf to the wall. Yes, I love it. It is the old look I had in mind. The wall I am talking about is over eight feet wide, and the shelf is pretty much the whole width. The wall looks totally different. It was always just a bare wall where nothing stands along it. It always looked sort of forlorn. Now it looks cozy warm. Several teapots, some candles for light and warmth, a painting of an old Singer sewing machine and a quilt I did in memory of Mom now adorn that wall. Plus there are antique dishes from various sides of the family. We extended a pretty rod between the middle two braces where I hung a “double wedding ring” quilt wall hanging from Mom. This whole project made me lonely for her. She would have come over and watched the whole process and expressed her gladness that I’d gotten the shelf.

  I beg forgiveness that I gave Wayne a hard time about my unbelief that he’d actually attempt a project like this. He’s not incapable of projects at all. To the contrary, but he just doesn’t have time for them. He fully supported my idea, and he is also satisfied with the finished project. We share an interest in antiques, furniture, and dishes, and we’ve been lucky to inherit quite a collection of both from family members from both our families.

  Let me tell you just what a smart cookie my husband has for a wife. Observant about what’s going on around me is not a natural virtue of mine. One morning upon arising at 3:50, Wayne observed the diesel engine was running to pump water. Upon arriving home from work around 1:00, he observed the engine was running but the air compressor was shut off. He thought surely this engine had not been running all day. But upon further investigation, yes, he believes that engine was running for at least nine hours.

  Where was his smart cookie—me? At home, in the house, in my own little world. I had company for coffee and tea that forenoon, so in the morning I was busy getting the house ready. In the afternoon I worked on the north porch, the opposite side of the house from where the engine is located in the barn. I heard the engine in the morning when I went outside to check on some gates between the barns. I heard the engine when I went to the door to greet my guests soon after 9:00. It simply did not register; I simply did not think about it. Smart cookie, indeed. I could dwell on the money burned that day. Diesel is expensive, as everyone knows.

  Brian went to a horse sale in the wee hours of the morning, so Karah and I did some of the chores. At 4:00, Wayne tried to explain to me how the gates are supposed to be moved after the horses are out so the feeder steers can get to their field. It didn’t quite make sense to me, but I figured Karah would know. We thought we did everything right, plus I did some reinforcing
of the gates so everything would surely be safe. Wayne later told me it wasn’t quite like he’d said, but it worked and all was well.

  I harnessed a horse, fed the dog, checked messages on the phone at the phone shack, and headed to the house. The girls were doing their morning chores. Jesse and I got ready, hitched the horse to the buggy, and headed to Shipshewana. We were planning to meet my Raber aunts and cousins for breakfast at the Blue Gate Restaurant to celebrate my sister Leanna’s fiftieth birthday. How I enjoy these celebrations! Heading north on SR 5 that morning, I began to fret with thoughts of doubt about having closed the coal stove. Leaving that door open would be a drastic mistake. I tried to mentally backtrack every step I took that morning. Did I or did I not? Oh great, a smart cookie indeed. I prayed for wisdom, and God gave me peace.

  We enjoyed our breakfast and watched Leanna unwrap her gifts. I lapped up every minute spent with these intriguing relatives of mine. On the way home, Jesse and I stopped at the thrift store and the bulk-food store, and then we headed on home. We beat Wayne and Colleen home from their jobs. The coal stove was calm, correctly doing its business… the door closed.

  One Saturday night I was lying awake in bed. Jolisa was on the couch coughing up a storm. Sometimes moms lie awake at night. I wonder how many nights my mom couldn’t sleep because of me. I guess I was busy deep inside myself because I did not hear a steer bawling.

  Wayne had been asleep when all at once he sat up in bed, quickly got dressed, and went outside. He put the steer where he belonged. The next day I asked him how he knew that steer was out of his pen. He thought it unnecessary to explain. Our instincts are different. Our observations are different. I notice other things he never thinks about. I hear my children in the night if they are sick. We balance each other, each bringing strong points from two different directions. And we shall call it good!

  Just having done our taxes and then receiving the papers in the mail regarding the amount of our property taxes makes me question our motive on trying to farm. Sometimes it makes no sense to me.

  Now I sit down with a cup of coffee, a mug of water, and three pieces of Dove chocolates. The first chocolate wrapper tells me to go where my heart takes me. Okay, we thought our hearts were in farming, and we’ll probably follow our hearts until we retire. Then the next wrapper reads, “Be a little mysterious.” That fit right in. Farming expenses: cost of seeds, taxes, weather patterns, repair costs, and dead colts are a mystery to me. Why do we put ourselves through this? I don’t know except some people just simply have it in their blood. I shall simply be submissive. Submissive without complaint…

  This spring we lost two colts at birth and had two that survived. Brian and I declared no more raising colts. With Wayne working out, it is too much stress. A mare giving birth is a lot more critical than a bovine. Maybe by next April we will have forgotten the stress of the births this year and welcome baby colts to the farm again.

  Then the skid loader died. It had hours and hours of use. If men could bake bread with a skid loader they would. We are in need of a new haybine too. Hey, what about the floor in the house? I’ll wait another ten years. Ahh, submissive without complaining…

  I did buy some paint. Six gallons to be exact. It was on sale at one of the local hardware stores. I bought one gallon at regular price and got the next gallon for five dollars. That was a great deal! With school out, one of these nice, warm, sunny days the girls and I shall begin. We will turn the house upside down and paint to our heart’s content. And wash curtains, and doilies, and bedding, and carpets. We’ll wash off the furniture and woodwork and scrub and wax the kitchen floor.

  Wayne is way patient with me. I love to chomp on ice, and he doesn’t complain about the noise. Sometimes he waits weeks until his pants are mended… literally. No, he hasn’t had to go without—yet. He cheerfully eats whatever I set before him at the table, and he lives with all my shortcomings patiently.

  He encourages me in my writing and painting. We discuss everything thoroughly from A to Z. He goes to town with me and good-naturedly listens to me tell people I love having him along to care for the horse, as if that were the only reason. He never complains how much I spend. He never has. He never questions my motive on buying something. I try hard never to give him reason to. So what if taxes are high and skid loaders and baby colts die? We have each other.

  Year 6

  Summer

  Sitting at the picnic table beneath two maple trees with the breezes blowing feels a bit cool. Pretty sweet for midsummer. Wayne and I just got done unloading three loads of hay. Seems with it being Saturday night, Colleen and Brian had better things to do with their friends. Karah, Emily, and Jolisa had other jobs to finish. Jesse flexed his seven-year-old muscles and helped me unload the bales. He was, well, not exactly in the way, but I practiced my patience with him being on the wagon.

  The landscape is so lush and green with the vegetation growing like crazy. Our minds often travel back to the intense heat and drought of last year. Definitely a year we won’t forget. Through God’s grace we survived.

  On June 29, at 1:30 in the morning, our family, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, settled ourselves into a 12-passenger van with a family friend as our driver, and we started on an 800-mile trek to northeastern Oklahoma. We had plans to spend time with my sister Freda’s family for close to a week.

  Ordering our breakfast at Cracker Barrel was a trip in itself. Our four youngest hardly ever eat at a restaurant for breakfast, and they had a bit of a time deciding what they wanted. We pulled it off with nary a hitch, enjoyed the delicious food, steered them past all those enticing gadgets in the lobby, and soon we were on our way again.

  In the afternoon we enjoyed a short stop at the Precious Moments Chapel* in Carthage, Missouri, marveling at Sam Butcher’s talents.

  We arrived at Enos and Freda’s house around 4:00 in the afternoon, ready to stretch our limbs and get some exercise.

  We enjoyed an awesome week devouring many a s’more and grilled pineapple and bananas. We talked, laughed, and did just about all that goes with being at a sister’s house with a fun family like she has. We had heated discussions on the amount of sugar in a 12-ounce can of pop, amongst many other things.

  On Sunday we went to their church. Throughout the week we visited in many friends’ homes. We went shopping a bit, went to the Tulsa Zoo, rented a swimming pool for an afternoon, and did laundry three times. The days were a gorgeous 80 degrees, the nights a cool 50 degrees, with absolutely no humidity. Those temps are almost unheard-of for Oklahoma at that time of year.

  All too soon it was time to head back home again. We came home safe and sound on Friday night, July 5, around 9:00.

  You should have seen Jacob when we opened the van doors! He would have crawled into the van had we let him. It was nice to be welcomed home.

  Reality hit us straight-on the next morning. There were mounds of laundry to wash, green beans to can, a garden that needed attention after a week of neglect. It was back to the grind, and that felt good too. We can only vacation so long. No matter how much fun we had, our normal home setting is still the best. This is where we belong.

  We’ve been busy as usual, with more deadlines than normal. The next two weeks we have weddings that we are involved in, and then we have a wedding every other week until sometime in October. Seven weddings that I am to help cook for. These are highly anticipated events for our family. Colleen is server in several of these weddings, so we have been busy making new dresses for her and also for me as people involved wear certain colors… colors the bride picks out for us.

  Jesse needs a pair of pants to match his Sunday suit coat, plus several pair for school. My baby is in first grade. I have to admit he is not a baby anymore. At age seven, his brain is ready and in dire need of academic stimulation. I can tell it is high time for him to begin with his formal education. He is a builder, making many paper airplanes, canoes, taking apart any old toy tractor or equipment and rebuilding it into something differen
t. He always is looking for something to take apart. Sometimes he took things apart his mom and sisters weren’t too happy about.

  I am having a hard time getting to the sewing machine this time of the year. I have ordered four bushels of peaches to can. Too bad they don’t come to the door already in cans. I also froze a lot of peaches in single-serving containers for the children to put into their lunches.

  This summer when we picked the black raspberries, I didn’t have time to process them so I stuck them in the freezer. Last week I organized the freezer and decided I might as well process them now. I made 13 pints of jelly and 9 quarts of pie filling. It can be such a purple mess, but once I sink my teeth into a piece of homemade bread slathered with black raspberry jelly I quickly forget about the purple mess.

  I also canned chicken bits and broth last week. I cooked 40 pounds of chicken for that. That’ll make us some good chicken and biscuits or chicken and noodles. It is such a grand satisfaction and convenience to have those foods in the basement. We are so richly blessed.

  Year 6

  Fall

  After coming home soon after lunch from helping get ready for a neighbor girl’s wedding, I am puttering around here trying to do some odd jobs. I brought in the laundry and folded it. The girls will put it away when they come home from school. I tended our baby, and he is now peacefully taking a nap.

  Our baby—a boy—came to stay with us soon after school started. Just like all babies, he changed our household being a bit domineering. I am not too impressed about his coming, but as always I swallow and give up my self-will.