Tears of the Silenced

by Misty Griffin

  I had agreed to dress Amish out of respect, but now I was wishing I hadn’t. I bit my lips as I deftly tucked in the front dress bodice and pinned the blue apron at the side. I put the light green work apron over the front of the dress. Methodically, I brushed back my long hair, rolled it into a flat bun and secured it in place and slid on one of Samantha’s stiff white head coverings.

  Quickly, I wiped my face with one of my disposable towelettes and then stowed everything high in Samantha’s closet. I looked in the mirror one last time and fiddled with my bangs, which were falling insistently down over my face.

  At the top of the stairs, I stopped for a moment. Familiar morning sounds floated up to me. The muffled sounds of Pennsylvania Dutch chatter danced about my ears, and the cozy winter morning with its wood stove smell not only reminded me of my life with the Amish, but also of my life on the mountain. These things represented the first twenty-two years of my life. No one would ever understand why they were important, even if I tried to explain it in depth.

  No matter how bad home was, it was still home, and home is something that will always be a part of you, something that helps define your life. Whether or not you chose to repeat what you had learned at home in your life — whether you did better or worse — home would always be there with you. It was so hard to resist the tug that pulled at my heartstrings that morning.

  Slowly I walked down the steps, not at all anxious to meet Annie or the Deacon. I knew the older children would remember me from when they lived in our community, and I hoped that they would not ask any questions. I guessed that they had already been given a stern warning not to talk to me, but I was not sure if they were aware that I was under the Meidung. Usually, non-church members did not know too much about these happenings, except that if someone was in the Bann, they had done something bad.

  As I walked into the kitchen, my gaze fell on the long table. Blue-and black-speckled metal plates and plastic cups were lined along its length in anticipation of the great-smelling breakfast. I stopped mid-stride when I saw a small coffee table placed off to the side of the room. It was set up for breakfast as well—the table for the shunned. I looked up to see Annie and the Deacon looking at me solemnly.

  “Where is Samantha?” I asked, purposely in English.

  Annie looked at me curiously. “She is in the store,” she answered in Amish as she motioned toward the side of the house where the small baked goods store was located.

  “Thank you,” I said, again in English.

  As I walked to the side door, I heard Ella say, “Emma looks different, and she is speaking English again.”

  “Shh … ” I heard Annie shush her as she handed her a pot of oatmeal.

  Samantha was in the store, putting price stickers on the bread and pies which were ready for the day’s sale.

  “Looks nice,” I commented as I entered.

  “Yeah.” Samantha nodded. “I really like it. I wish you lived with us. You could help me in the bakery here. You always made the most beautiful pies.”

  I winced slightly at the comment. “Is it Annie’s business or yours?” I asked.

  Samantha dusted off the wooden table in the middle of the room. “Since I am twenty-one now, I have split the shop with Mom, fifty-fifty. I make the bread and noodles and she makes the cookies, pies, and jellies.”

  “That’s a great idea.” I nodded as I gazed around the old-fashioned store.

  “Yeah,” Samantha agreed. “We are lucky we live so close to the road, so we usually sell out on the weekends. After we are married, Daniel and I will live here for a year or so until our place is ready on his dad’s farm. After we move, I will just bring my stuff down here, or bake it here with Mom.”

  I nodded and smiled. But on the inside I hurt because I knew she was not going with me.

  “Breakfast.” Ella fairly yelled at us from the door.

  Everyone gathered at the table for the morning meal, which was a little late on this Saturday morning. I sat at my table, and all the children stared at me with wide, innocent eyes. I smiled at them, trying to show that I was not at all bothered by it.

  “Why is Emma sitting over there?” Little Rebecca whispered to Samantha.

  “Oh, she wanted to sit there because she is tired,” Samantha whispered back.

  Rebecca seemed confused and kept looking over at me throughout breakfast.

  I was hungry and dug into my plate of food, savoring the familiar taste of potatoes with tomato gravy, molasses oatmeal and country fried eggs. I saw Samantha, Annie, and the Deacon look over at me, hoping to see that I was uncomfortable sitting away from the group. I just smiled back at them.

  After breakfast, I knelt with my face on my chair as the Deacon recited the Saturday morning prayer. I sighed as I knelt there in my Amish clothes, listening to the Amish prayer. I was thinking how hard it was going to be to leave again. It was so much easier to wear this simple dress and go about the day’s work. Once I left, I would probably not see my sister very often, and I would definitely not be able to attend her wedding.

  Acres of Heartache

  In keeping silent about evil, in burying it so deep within us that no sign of it appears on the surface, we are implanting it, and it will rise up a thousand fold in the future. When we neither punish nor reproach evildoers, we are not simply protecting their trivial old age, we are thereby ripping the foundations of justice from beneath new generations.

  —Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn,

  The Gulag Archipelago 1918-1956

  After breakfast, I helped the girls with dishes and straightening up the house. Since none of them were baptized members yet, I could work freely with them without fear of touching them or handing them something.

  Annie and Samantha stayed busy with customers in the bakery and doing other Saturday chores. The bakery closed at noon on Saturdays to ensure that the womenfolk had enough time to get everything ready for the upcoming Sabbath. At noon, I sat again at my individual table and little Rebecca tried to sit with me because she thought I was sad, but a firm swat to her bottom from the Deacon sent her whimpering over to the main table. I could see that the adults were a little irritated that I was showing no signs of remorse and had expressed no desire to come back into the fold. But I am positive that, in their own way, they meant well.

  Annie and the Deacon were actually really nice people. They only acted the way they did out of concern for my soul. Just like I had before, they truly believed that leaving the Amish was a grave sin, one that you could never recover from. They believed that if I were to die without coming back to the Amish, I would go straight to hell, no exceptions.

  After lunch, I took out my disposable camera and secretly took pictures of myself in my Amish clothes. I took a picture of Samantha’s room and of the house. I really wanted to take pictures of Samantha too, but I could not bring myself to betray her trust, so I tucked the camera back into my suitcase, happy that I had been able to capture a few small moments of my trip so I could remember it later.

  In the afternoon, I worked with Annie cleaning all the lamps, while Samantha took over the weekly braiding of the girls’ hair. Annie had told her that she needed the practice, so ever since Samantha had gotten engaged, she had been doing all the braiding.

  Cleaning with Annie proved to be a very uncomfortable task. I instinctively tried to hand her things from time to time without thinking, and I was amazed at how good she was at remembering that she must not take anything from my hand. She would motion for me to put it down on the table and then she came over and picked it up. Being reminded that I was in the Bann was uncomfortable; I could see how it persuaded some to return to the church.

  That evening, Samantha’s soon-to-be-husband came over for dinner with his parents and siblings. I was anxious to meet them but also nervous because Daniel’s family was very strict, and I knew they did not like the fact that their son was dating a girl who
had a sister that had left the church. Samantha had winced a little as she told me. The Amish wife always had to take on the traditions of the husband’s family. However, Samantha had been fortunate enough to have landed in an Amish family that was otherwise considered to be lax with rules. I knew she would be able to adjust, though she had no choice in the matter.

  After dinner was served, I sat down at my small individual table, while everyone else sat at the big table. After the silent prayer, I picked at my food. The roasted ham and pineapple with creamy mashed potatoes and gravy was one of my favorites, but I had a lot on my mind, so I barely touched my food. I sighed. Everyone at the main table seemed to be purposely taking hours to eat. I had put a small book in my dress pocket so I would have something to do other than awkwardly sit at my table while everyone cast sideways looks in my direction. I pretended to be reading for a while but eventually could stand it no longer and announced I was going to the neighbors to make a phone call to Seattle.

  As I stepped out into the frigid Wisconsin air, I closed my eyes and drank in the silence. There were no prodding eyes out here—how relaxing. I walked to the neighbor’s house and called Aunty Laura. I told her I was fine and having fun with Samantha. Uncle Bill must have asked me at least five times if I was sure I was okay. Aunty Laura finally told him to stop and told me to have a nice time. It was nice to hear their cheerful voices, and after that evening’s dinner, I was happy that I was leaving soon to return to my new life.

  The next morning, everyone arose early. It was church Sunday and the house in which church was being held was a half-an-hour walk away.

  We ate breakfast hurriedly, and then, after doing the dishes, went upstairs to change into our church clothes. As Samantha and I ran upstairs, I remembered the first few days we had spent together in the community—I could see that Samantha was remembering them, too.

  “Don’t you miss it just a little?” she asked me as we pinned our stiff, white organdy capes.

  I sighed. “Sometimes,” I admitted.

  “Are you sure you won’t come back?” she pleaded. “You could live here and find a husband like me. We could even be neighbors.”

  I bit my lip and looked at Samantha. “I can’t, Samantha,” I said softly. “I don’t believe in the church rules anymore, and I will not back down on my principles for the sake of a secure life. I just won’t do it. But that doesn’t mean I love you any less. I will always love you.”

  I saw tears form in Samantha’s eyes. “But you are my older sister. You are supposed to be there for me, to help me.” She burst into tears, and I began crying too.

  “I am here for you, Samantha,” I choked out as I started to reach for her.

  “No, you aren’t,” Samantha said angrily as she pushed me away. “You left me!”

  “I did not leave you. I left the Amish!”

  “That is leaving me,” she said as she stomped out the door and down the stairs.

  I closed my eyes and fervently wished I had never come to Wisconsin. It was so hard to hear my little sister accusing me of abandoning her. I felt so sad, I even wondered if I was being a bad sister. In reality, Samantha and I reminded each other of our horrible childhoods. I could see it in her eyes and I am sure she could see it in mine.

  No one would ever be able to truly understand the horror we had experienced there on that mountain. Even I myself cannot fully describe it; I lived it and in that respect it was my normality. Only the eyes of an outsider looking in could truly explain the total sorrow of those two frightened girls that had lived on that mountain. Despite the fact that we both loved each other, we had never truly been sisters in the full sense. We had spent almost our entire lives not being allowed to talk to each other unless we snuck away out of earshot of Mamma and Brian. I brushed away a tear. How could that have really been my life? I felt a panic beginning to well up in my chest. The thought of Mamma and Brian and the fact that I was once again in an Amish farmhouse: it was almost too much for me.

  We walked to church in silence. As we approached the wash house, I saw a group of girls entering and I felt nauseated. I didn’t want to sit in this church and listen to them admonishing members to put away their worldliness, obey the Ordnung and the Church all while I knew they had at least two child molesters in their midst.

  I was surprised when Samantha told me to file in line with the other girls. I had thought since I was shunned I might have to sit off to the side of the church. It was a ploy to get me to come back to the Amish. Being included always makes one feel good and wanted, but it is possible to be as lonely in a group as when one is alone. There, I felt sad and alone. Everyone around me thought I was a sinful worldling.

  After church, Samantha told me they would set a little table aside for me to eat lunch if I wanted to stay, but I told her I would walk home and wait for them there. When I got back to the house, I went straight to the barn and I sat on the fence feeding handfuls of sweet grain and old cookies to the horses. I really missed horses. One of them was especially friendly and kept nuzzling me. I smiled and put my arms around his neck. Such a comfort, I thought as I breathed in the distinct aroma of horse. They were nonjudgmental and accepting of me as I was.

  I stayed in the barn for a while and then went into the house and walked around. I was bored and found myself wanting to watch the evening news. How sinful, I told myself with a laugh. The sound of the laughing children signaled the return of the family, so I sat down on the wood box until they came into the house.

  That evening after Samantha left for the youth singing, I said goodnight to Annie and the Deacon and went upstairs to Samantha’s room. I did not want to be alone with them. I sensed they wanted to talk to me, but I did not want to talk to them. I just wanted to go back to Seattle.

  I stayed up late reading, and heard Samantha and Daniel come in around eleven. Their muffled voices carried up from downstairs for about two hours. Finally, I heard Samantha coming up the stairs. I took my lamp and went out into the hallway. She just looked at me.

  “I can’t stay in the same room with you tonight.” She looked at the floor. “I promised Daniel I wouldn’t, so I will stay in Ella’s room.”

  I nodded. Only now was the severity of the Meidung beginning to sink in. I studied Samantha’s face as she stared at the floor.

  I went back to the room and crawled in bed and pulled the heavy blankets over me. As I snuggled into Samantha’s bed, I let the tears flow. I was glad I was returning to Seattle the following morning.

  The next morning, I quietly went downstairs for breakfast but could not eat. The sadness that enveloped me was tremendous and all I wanted to do was run out of that house and never stop running. I had lost my sister, my church, and the only world I had ever known how to function in. One side of me wanted to let myself be lured back into familiarity but the other side of me fought on principle. I kept fighting back tears. I know Annie and the Deacon saw them, but I couldn’t help it.

  After the dishes, I tried to shrug off my sadness as I walked outside and then down the country road. A few English neighbors drove by and waved at me, and I waved back. It was a nice feeling, I thought. As I walked, I could see for miles across the vast, rolling Wisconsin landscape. I saw Amish farm houses everywhere I looked. My heart ached and I felt nothing but despair.

  Nine o’clock came around. I was upstairs gathering my belongings when the neighbor drove up. I was so glad when she arrived that I grabbed my things and flew down the stairs. No one was in the house. I went around to the side to the wash house and found Annie and Samantha doing the laundry. They turned and looked at me blankly. Samantha hesitated briefly, and I saw a tear sparkle in her green eyes. This was good-bye, maybe forever, or at least a very long time.

  I saw Ezra standing by the barn as I climbed into the truck. When he saw that I had caught him watching, he turned away. I clenched my teeth, trying not to flat out burst into tears. Even if I did come b
ack, the next time I would not put on Amish clothes and stay in the same house or go to church with Samantha. I would be a worldly outsider, held at a distance for the rest of my life. “Oh, God,” I whispered as I tried to choke back the tears. “Why is everything always so hard?”

  As we drove to the bus station, the kind woman did not say anything. She had seen a tear rolling down my cheek and had turned up the news on the radio to signal me that we did not need to talk. I rested my head against the window and watched the farmland roll by. I was mentally exhausted. When we got to the bus station, the lady turned and smiled at me as I was opening the truck door.

  “I can tell you are very brave, honey.” She looked at me sympathetically. “Keep your chin up and you will achieve a lot out there. I know you will.”

  I smiled at her. “Thanks,” I said as I slid off the seat. “That means a lot.”

  I closed the door and watched her drive away. What she said had cheered me up and I thought about my upcoming trip to Florida. She was right; I hoped to accomplish many things. My life was not over; it was just beginning!

  Feeling a little lighter, I walked into the diner that was next to the bus station. I still had an hour and a half and thought I might as well get some breakfast. I was starving since I had only been able to swallow a few bites of food the previous 24 hours. I sat there and ordered whatever I wanted from the menu. I felt great satisfaction as I paid for the food with my own money, money that I had earned.

  As I boarded the bus for the long ride home, I turned and waved in the direction of Samantha’s home. “I love you, Samantha,” I whispered.

  The cold morning breeze swallowed my words as I spoke them, and I fantasized that that same wind would whisper them in Samantha’s ear. I settled back into my seat and gave a great sigh of relief. I was going back to my new life. I was so happy and relieved, I fell asleep thinking about going overseas with the missionary group. It would truly be a dream-come-true.