Christmas time was a joyous time for us, even though we didn’t celebrate in a big way. There was something about the season, seeing the neighbors houses all decked in lights, that brought pure joy to our little hearts. It seemed so cozy.
I can still picture my sister, myself, and my little brother with our elbows perched on the window sill at dusk waiting for the lights to come on. We oohed and ahhed over all the different lights, and we were excited to see how they’d change things each year.
The weeks up to Christmas seemed exciting, and a bit secretive. Mom would buy huge bars of melting chocolate to make all kinds of sweet chocolate covered goodies to enjoy. At that time chocolate was not my favorite thing *gasp* and I ate way too many rice crispy treats, and cracker jacks instead.
On Christmas Eve after we were all in bed, Mom and Dad (or sometimes our older siblings) would set the table, and fill our plates with store bought candy, an organge, nuts, and sometimes a little toy or something extra. Christmas morning we’d wake up just as excited as if we had received an extravagant amount of gifts. ☺️ I don’t remember ever feeling let down or sad about only receiving candy, and things to eat.
I remember one Christmas when I was 6 or 7 I got a plastic clip key chain. After I left the Amish I carried my car keys on it for many years, and every time I’d see it I remembered the excitement around our Christmas breakfast table. Once I received a set of salt and pepper shakers that my family now uses daily. My kids enjoy hearing the story of how excited I was to receive them. 😃
Christmas Day was spent visiting other families or just being together, and eating way too much! 😃 December 26th was called 2nd day of Christmas, and we got to do whatever we wanted to. When we were old enough to do paying jobs we’d often try to find work, because we’d get to keep the money we earned. (On ordinary days all the money we earned went to mom and dad until we were 21)
New Year’s Day was another day that we got to keep the money we earned.
January 6th was considered old Christmas. However, we didn’t do gifts that day. The grown ups would fast until lunch time, and afternoon we’d often go visit friends.
Our school teachers always did a great job of making Christmas exciting, and made sure everyone got a little gift. 🎁
My husband Isaac, and I, have kept the tradition of keeping Christmas low key. On Christmas Eve we have a candle lit dinner using our fanciest China, I will cook our favorite foods, and Isaac makes a delightful rum cake. We get each of our children a little gift too. Our Christmas Eve dinners have become our favorite tradition so far. The kids talk about it all year. Christmas is my very favorite holiday to decorate for, and I’m always aching to put that tree up as soon as thanksgiving is over. Yes, I wait until after. ☺️
Friday, November 10, 2017
Wednesday, September 20, 2017
My Maem
My Maem (Maem=Mom) was a tender hearted person. She smiled, and made people feel welcome, and at ease. She especially loved children, and kept a house full at all times. ☺️ She was the one that offered to babysit whenever the need arose. Some kids in the community called her Mommy. (Mommy=grandma) I remember how she rocked her grand babies, and sang to them in German. I'm #13 of her #14 kids so I got to witness the grandma version of her more than my older siblings did. She was 41 when I was born.
She would tell us the story of how her maem died when she was only 10, (Mom was #9 of 18 kids.)
She'd often shed a few tears while telling us the story. Other times she would giggle until she cried while telling us funny stories of her childhood. Funny or sad, I never got tired of hearing the same stories over and over.
She was never shy, and embarrassed us so very much, especially whenever we were around English people. (English=non Amish) Sometimes she'd peddle her produce and baked goods through subdivided neighborhoods in her buggy while yelling out "Green beans for sale!" Or "y'all want any bread!" That last phrase got taken advantage of sometimes when people would say "sure!" take a loaf, and leave, without paying. 😜 As a teen I was sure I was gonna die of embarrassment before our peddling endeavors would end. Mostly she would have a roadside stand, and only delivered/peddled when she had leftovers. She also made a lot of quilts to sell. Looking back I see what a survivor she was, and I see now why English people felt welcome at our house. She invited them in, let them eat with us, and had several best friends that were English.
I also remember the many buggy rides to mommy Gingerich's house with Maem. Mommy was her stepmom, and it was probably the most boring place to go as a child. Mommy was nearly deaf , had no teeth, and didn't want us to make any noise, so we'd sit as still as mice until we were dismissed to go play with our cousins that lived in the big house next to the Doddy house. (A Doddy (=grandpa) house was usually built by one of the married children's homes so they could take care of the elderly parents) Maem loved her and always said we'd regret it if we wouldn't go see her because we wouldn't always have her.
Mommy had dentures, but never bothered to wear them, she said they were a nuisance, and last I heard she had thrown them out in the field. 😂 That's what Aunt Ida said.
It's amazing to me now to realize that I was never told "I love you" or was hugged or shown affection by my parents, yet I felt loved and cared for . My parents weren't perfect, and made many mistakes, but they did their best and followed what they had been taught for generations.
When I think of mama, I think of hard work, love, and a cheerful attitude.
Maem left us in February of 2011 after a year long suffering from complications of diabetes. She was 70 years old, had been married to dad for 50 years. She had 14 children and 120 grandchildren. I miss her always.
She never wasted anything!
At her funeral I ate molasses cookies that she had baked while a wheelchair was her only way of getting around. She never let anything stop her. She sang her favorite German songs while on her deathbed a few hours before her passing. ❤️❤️
She would tell us the story of how her maem died when she was only 10, (Mom was #9 of 18 kids.)
She'd often shed a few tears while telling us the story. Other times she would giggle until she cried while telling us funny stories of her childhood. Funny or sad, I never got tired of hearing the same stories over and over.
She was never shy, and embarrassed us so very much, especially whenever we were around English people. (English=non Amish) Sometimes she'd peddle her produce and baked goods through subdivided neighborhoods in her buggy while yelling out "Green beans for sale!" Or "y'all want any bread!" That last phrase got taken advantage of sometimes when people would say "sure!" take a loaf, and leave, without paying. 😜 As a teen I was sure I was gonna die of embarrassment before our peddling endeavors would end. Mostly she would have a roadside stand, and only delivered/peddled when she had leftovers. She also made a lot of quilts to sell. Looking back I see what a survivor she was, and I see now why English people felt welcome at our house. She invited them in, let them eat with us, and had several best friends that were English.
I also remember the many buggy rides to mommy Gingerich's house with Maem. Mommy was her stepmom, and it was probably the most boring place to go as a child. Mommy was nearly deaf , had no teeth, and didn't want us to make any noise, so we'd sit as still as mice until we were dismissed to go play with our cousins that lived in the big house next to the Doddy house. (A Doddy (=grandpa) house was usually built by one of the married children's homes so they could take care of the elderly parents) Maem loved her and always said we'd regret it if we wouldn't go see her because we wouldn't always have her.
Mommy had dentures, but never bothered to wear them, she said they were a nuisance, and last I heard she had thrown them out in the field. 😂 That's what Aunt Ida said.
It's amazing to me now to realize that I was never told "I love you" or was hugged or shown affection by my parents, yet I felt loved and cared for . My parents weren't perfect, and made many mistakes, but they did their best and followed what they had been taught for generations.
When I think of mama, I think of hard work, love, and a cheerful attitude.
Maem left us in February of 2011 after a year long suffering from complications of diabetes. She was 70 years old, had been married to dad for 50 years. She had 14 children and 120 grandchildren. I miss her always.
She never wasted anything!
At her funeral I ate molasses cookies that she had baked while a wheelchair was her only way of getting around. She never let anything stop her. She sang her favorite German songs while on her deathbed a few hours before her passing. ❤️❤️
Sunday, September 17, 2017
Amish Church
Swartzentruber Amish church lasted a good 4 hours, and yet it was a highlight of my week, it meant I got to see my friends. On Saturdays us little kids got a bath by the wood cook stove in a galvanized metal tub. (Think little house on the prairie 😉) Mama would hang our church clothes out in the living room to make it easier to get all of us ready for church on Sunday. I had 2 or 3 dresses to wear for Sunday, a black one, a blue one, and a brown one. I then wore a white pinaform over it for church. When I got older I had a dark burgundy dress added to my Sunday attire, and my pin-a-form was replaced with a white apron and cape. For church my every day cotton black cap was replaced with a black silk one. We only had church every other Sunday, and the in between Sunday was used for visiting friends. We didn't have a church house, but instead, church services were held in each other's homes. In the summer time it was often held in shops or barns. There was no air conditioning, and having the crowd in big open spaces made it more bearable.
I remember the excitement of having church at our place. We'd spend two weeks cleaning everything from top to bottom.
Neighbors, friends, and grandma came by to help with all the scrubbing that needed to be done. Oil lamps and lanterns were emptied and washed, the wicks were boiled in soapy water, and the burners were sometimes boiled in tomato juice to make them shine. I can still smell the hint of kerosene mixed with the tomato juice. It sort of smelled like excitement. 😀
The basement was scrubbed and all canned food was neatly organized. The beds were stripped, and the mattresses were given a thorough beating to get any dust out. Walls and ceilings were washed. Mom would bake lots of bread and cookies in preparation for the big day. The men were equally busy cleaning up the barn, and any outside areas. If church was held in the house we would remove all the furniture and replace it with long hard benches that were hauled from place to place on a wagon. My siblings and I enjoyed having the benches stacked on our porch afterwards, it was fun climbing on them and using them as a fort. I especially remember climbing into our forts and enjoying a good thunder storm. (At that time our benches didn't fold like they do now.)
After two weeks of prepping, the day finally came, as a child it felt like such an important day. I could hardly contain my excitement. 😃
We did our chores, and ate our usual Sunday morning breakfast of coffee soup, sausage and sometimes peaches, or hard boiled eggs. 😋 Now it was time for the final touches..make sure all the benches are in the right place, we'd fill a bowl with cookies and crackers, and sometimes one with snitz pie for the younger kids to eat in case they got hungry before church services were over.
One church district had anywhere from 15 to 30 families, and with each family having anywhere from 1-19 kids it was quite the crowd. My sisters and I would wait in our wash house (a place where we had our wringer washer and big kettle to heat water) and wait for all our neighbors and friends to arrive. All the women would come into the wash house where they took off their bonnets a shawls and put them on a table. The married women then shook hands with everyone before they, along with their babies and children under 9 went to the main house where services were held. The men all gathered by the barn after unhitching and tying up the horses. Ministers, deacons, and bishops all greeted each other with a handshake and a holy kiss. Everyone else greeted each other with only a handshake. At 9:00 everyone went single file into the house. Starting with the ministers, then married men, and then the boys. After the boys were all seated, the girls entered, and sat down. All in somber and silence. Smiling during church service was frowned upon. Everyone was given a fat little German hymnal, and we all sang together in a long drawn out tune. The ministers made their way to a private room to discuss and pray, (I guess I'm not sure what they actually did. 😏) while everyone else sang more songs, one being the "Lob Leid" (praise song). Once the ministers returned, the preaching started which was also in German, and very hard to understand since we spoke Pennsylvania Dutch, and only learned German once we went to school. As a young child, it seemed like it would never end, and sitting on that hard bench wasn't that easy.
While the preaching and singing went on the host family made a huge amount of bean/bread soup in the big cast iron kettle that we used for heating water, this would feed everyone after sevice. It was made of butter, beans, milk, and bread. When church service was finally over, the men would push the benches together to make tables. The young girls would spread table cloths over them and set bowls of soup, bread, pickles, pickled red beets, butter, and two kinds of jam or jelly. Most times we'd have a jam and Amish peanut butter, or apple butter, and peanut butter. Peanut butter was popular.
One bowl of soup would feed 4-6 people and we'd all dig in with our spoons and eat straight from the bowl. 🍚 😱 The youth usually had a singing later that evening.
I remember the excitement of having church at our place. We'd spend two weeks cleaning everything from top to bottom.
Neighbors, friends, and grandma came by to help with all the scrubbing that needed to be done. Oil lamps and lanterns were emptied and washed, the wicks were boiled in soapy water, and the burners were sometimes boiled in tomato juice to make them shine. I can still smell the hint of kerosene mixed with the tomato juice. It sort of smelled like excitement. 😀
The basement was scrubbed and all canned food was neatly organized. The beds were stripped, and the mattresses were given a thorough beating to get any dust out. Walls and ceilings were washed. Mom would bake lots of bread and cookies in preparation for the big day. The men were equally busy cleaning up the barn, and any outside areas. If church was held in the house we would remove all the furniture and replace it with long hard benches that were hauled from place to place on a wagon. My siblings and I enjoyed having the benches stacked on our porch afterwards, it was fun climbing on them and using them as a fort. I especially remember climbing into our forts and enjoying a good thunder storm. (At that time our benches didn't fold like they do now.)
After two weeks of prepping, the day finally came, as a child it felt like such an important day. I could hardly contain my excitement. 😃
We did our chores, and ate our usual Sunday morning breakfast of coffee soup, sausage and sometimes peaches, or hard boiled eggs. 😋 Now it was time for the final touches..make sure all the benches are in the right place, we'd fill a bowl with cookies and crackers, and sometimes one with snitz pie for the younger kids to eat in case they got hungry before church services were over.
One church district had anywhere from 15 to 30 families, and with each family having anywhere from 1-19 kids it was quite the crowd. My sisters and I would wait in our wash house (a place where we had our wringer washer and big kettle to heat water) and wait for all our neighbors and friends to arrive. All the women would come into the wash house where they took off their bonnets a shawls and put them on a table. The married women then shook hands with everyone before they, along with their babies and children under 9 went to the main house where services were held. The men all gathered by the barn after unhitching and tying up the horses. Ministers, deacons, and bishops all greeted each other with a handshake and a holy kiss. Everyone else greeted each other with only a handshake. At 9:00 everyone went single file into the house. Starting with the ministers, then married men, and then the boys. After the boys were all seated, the girls entered, and sat down. All in somber and silence. Smiling during church service was frowned upon. Everyone was given a fat little German hymnal, and we all sang together in a long drawn out tune. The ministers made their way to a private room to discuss and pray, (I guess I'm not sure what they actually did. 😏) while everyone else sang more songs, one being the "Lob Leid" (praise song). Once the ministers returned, the preaching started which was also in German, and very hard to understand since we spoke Pennsylvania Dutch, and only learned German once we went to school. As a young child, it seemed like it would never end, and sitting on that hard bench wasn't that easy.
While the preaching and singing went on the host family made a huge amount of bean/bread soup in the big cast iron kettle that we used for heating water, this would feed everyone after sevice. It was made of butter, beans, milk, and bread. When church service was finally over, the men would push the benches together to make tables. The young girls would spread table cloths over them and set bowls of soup, bread, pickles, pickled red beets, butter, and two kinds of jam or jelly. Most times we'd have a jam and Amish peanut butter, or apple butter, and peanut butter. Peanut butter was popular.
One bowl of soup would feed 4-6 people and we'd all dig in with our spoons and eat straight from the bowl. 🍚 😱 The youth usually had a singing later that evening.
Tuesday, January 24, 2017
My Sister
I saw her sitting in the corner booth at a McDonald's which was inside the Walmart. I couldn't see the profile of her face that was hidden behind the big black bonnet she was wearing, the little boy and girl with her looked very familiar, almost as if I were back in time.
I scanned across the restaurant to see if anyone was with her. At the register I saw a tall Amish man in a broad brimmed straw hat. I hadn't seen him, or his wife in almost 11 years, his hair had turned white, but he was definitely my sisters husband. My sister that was 12 years older than I, whom I looked up to, and pretty much thought she had hung the moon. She had gotten married when I was 10, and 9 months later gave birth to a sweet little girl that they named Saloma.
What 10 year old aunt doesn't dream of having a niece named after her? 😉 Ok, that's probably only in large families.
I stood there observing them from the crowd of Walmart shoppers in plain sight. My heart ached and I blinked back the tears. I missed them. I missed my family, but my eyes were opened to something I hadn't noticed so much while I was Amish. Their faces showed no joy, not even a smidge. She looked pale and tired. Her dress of blue seemed dark and drab, her husband looked equally unhappy.
I had a deep sadness for them, as I wondered if they have ever experienced joy. Joy unspeakable. Joy deep within, like I had.
I wanted to talk to her, to hug her, and tell her I miss her. Instead I left, and shared with my kids all the things I loved about my sister Lovina.
2 years later I met her at one of my brother in laws funeral. 7 of us sisters got to sit a talk for a spell. Lovina told me of how I was the most precious smilingest blue eyed baby she ever saw, (you can see why I love her😉) and then she added how she wished things were still like they used to be, and if we would please come back before it's too late.
She genuinely believes being Amish saves her, and wants that for me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)