In Time for an Amish Christmas

by Samantha Price

  She took off her hat and coat and left them hanging to dry in the open closet by the door. She headed out to the living room and slumped onto the couch. Off came her shoes, and she picked up the TV remote, hit the power button and flicked through the channels. A good show was what she needed to cheer herself up. It was hard having no one to share the good times with, and harder still, having no one to share the bad times. She never thought she’d be alone forever, but with every passing day it was becoming a stronger possibility.

  It wasn’t unusual for her to think about Derek at this time of year. For the first couple of years, she’d waited for him to knock on her door, but she soon came to terms with the fact that he wasn't coming after her and he’d gotten married to some lucky woman. Going without love was a sacrifice she had to make to reach her goals.

  She threw the remote down on the coffee table in frustration. There was never anything good on TV at Christmastime and especially not on a Sunday. The Christmas specials were either too childish or too sappy. She reminded herself to get pay TV. That’s something I'll do in the new year, she thought. All the serials and reality TV shows she enjoyed had finished. And that left only reruns of movies she’d already seen.

  After she had put one of her frozen dinners in the microwave to heat, she headed to her room to fetch the one thing that would make her feel closer to Derek and her old community, if she could find it. She rummaged through her drawers in her expansive walk-in-closet until she recalled she’d seen it on the top shelf of the linen closet in the hallway.

  She opened the door of the closet and couldn’t reach the top shelf without standing on a chair. After she dragged a chair from the dining room, she reached up and her hand touched something that could’ve been it. She grabbed the edge of it and pulled. Yes. There it was. Her grandmother’s diary that her father had given her the day she left the community.

  Tucking it under her arm, she lifted the chair and used one foot to nudge the door of the linen closet shut. She took the chair back to the dining room and set the book in the living room. She went into her bedroom and changed into comfy clothes and then curled up on the living room couch to reminisce.

  In all the time she’d had it, she’d only leafed through it once or twice. There were recipes every three or four pages, but mainly it was a travelogue of all the places Agnes, her grandmother, had visited before she married. Every time she’d looked at the book, she had marveled at her grandmother’s handwriting. It revealed what an exacting and meticulous person she had been.

  When the microwave beeped, Heidi closed the book and left it on the coffee table while she ate her dinner in the kitchen.

  After her dinner of roasted lamb and vegetables, she had another surf through the TV channels. There was still nothing worth watching. She leaned over and grabbed her grandmother’s book and started to read her recipes along with the handy hints. The recipes were written in such a way that it made Heidi feel she could follow them and they would turn out okay. That hadn’t been the case in the past when she’d followed other people’s recipes. After a little more reading, she took the book to bed, deciding to read the diary from the beginning.

  Chapter 2

  This diary belongs to Agnes Hostetler. I am a woman of twenty years and have started on a most exciting journey. My life begins today. I have decided to write my life experiences and no longer will I be an onlooker, I will be a partaker of life. This day marks day one of my six-week journey that my parents have designed for me. I will be visiting relations and friends of my mother, who are scattered all over the country. I don’t know who I’m writing this for, but a journey such as this surely needs to be accompanied by a written record.

  I am the youngest of three sisters and we have two older brothers. All are in the Amish faith, and all are married except for my sister Amy, and myself. Amy is engaged to be married to Harold in three months’ time. Why have my parents (John and Greta) decided to send me away? They said it was something that was for my own good. I've known about it for two weeks, since I overheard them talking about it. I was going to bed one night and walked past their door and heard my name mentioned. I was curious and stopped still to listen.

  "We have spoiled her," I heard my father say. "Not only because she was the youngest, but she was smaller than the others and didn't feed as well. We carried on being overly protective. We let fear into our hearts instead of trusting God. He gave her to us, and He will look after her on this journey you intend to send her on.”

  “We have spoiled her. It’s true, jah,” my mother agreed. “She’s taken an almost arrogant approach and questions everything. She is not at all like the others, who were so obedient and took our advice about choosing good husbands and fraas. She has not been made to do chores like the others and she has never seen hardship.”

  I was hurt and shocked at what they’d said. For so long I’d begged Mamm and Amy to let me help in the kitchen and each time they sent me off. It’s no wonder I lost interest with so much rejection. It’s not my fault, it’s theirs.

  Dat said, “She has developed into a dreamer. Her mind is not on the earth, it is in the clouds somewhere.”

  “Jah, and she’s not even interested in cooking and cleaning like other maidels. She takes no thought of choosing a husband and I despair of what will become of her when we go home to Gott.”

  "I know.”

  “I will miss her, but I see no other way.”

  My vadder said, “Nee. That's true. Surely you know it is just as hard on me to part with her for six weeks as it is for you."

  "Jah, dear, I know it is hard for you.”

  “So, dry those tears. She will have to help with lots of chores in every place we send her."

  "I have written to them all and let them know what must be achieved from her visits. I know everyone will help. And, I have that special plan we talked about.”

  "Special plan?" They were sending me away. What plan? I was pleased they were upset about me being away, at least. From then on, I could hear no more as their voices became muffled. I was upset they thought this way about me. I was born early, weeks before I was supposed to be, and I nearly died. It was true I wouldn’t feed properly as a baby, and now they think I’m spoiled.

  After hearing this conversation between my parents, I hurried to my own room. I was filled to overflowing with excitement that they were sending me off to travel. That’s something I'd always wanted to do from the time I was a little girl. At that moment, I thought to buy a blank book, so I could write down everything I would learn in those six weeks.

  My parents think I can't do anything and they despair of me. I will show them I can do everything better than everyone else, but I have not been given the chance or, sometimes, I've just chosen not to, up to now.

  I will learn to be the best cook; I will collect recipes and learn to be an expert at running a household. I will be so good that I will be even better than their expectations.

  If I marry, I will find a husband that suits me and the love won’t be swooning. It will be a practical kind of love. I will find a good man. If they think I'm a dreamer, they are in for a big shock.

  That's what I decided that night after I heard my parents’ plan.

  Now, I am writing this on the bus to my first destination, in a book I’m going to use to record everything that happens. I bought the book at the mercantile store. The bus is quieter than I thought it would be and it trembles. This is the first time I’ve been on one. The scenery is passing so fast before my eyes. It’s much faster than a buggy; it almost makes me dizzy at times. There are beautiful pastures with valleys and hills in the distance. My thoughts go back to my parents’ conversation about the plans they hold for me.

  There was one part of it I could not understand. The part where my mother said she had a secret plan. What could it be?

  * * *

  After half an hour of reading about Agnes’s adventures, Heidi’s eyes closed and she could feel herself fading. She shut the book, and
held it to her chest while her thoughts turned again to Derek Miller. Tears flooded down her cheeks. Why had she been so stupid as to leave him? All the money in the world couldn’t buy the love they’d had. With him, she’d had everything she’d ever wanted and yet she went in search of something else. Heidi had always prided herself on being a smart woman, but now she knew she wasn’t.

  Heidi wanted to be more like Agnes, who took enjoyment in simple things. Most of the Amish did that, and that was something she missed about her Amish kinfolk. Agnes wouldn’t have left God and the only man she’d ever loved to chase riches and silly notions. At that moment, Heidi judged her whole life as a waste. It had been vanity when she'd had the idea of being a model, wanting others to admire her prancing around like a fool on a catwalk. It was pride to amass a fortune just so others would think well of her business acumen, and she had wanted people to be surprised that she, a mere woman, could achieve so much.

  In that moment, she realized she was working so hard just so that others would think well of her. When all was said and done and her life was over, what would she have accomplished? It was a comfort that she had been able to provide jobs for her workers and be of good service to her clients, but she was more than her job. She needed more. Was it too much to ask for a male companion? It seemed everyone she knew had one without even trying.

  Gott, what have I done? I abandoned you without a second thought, chasing vanity and pride. I also left Derek in the same way. What can I do to right the wrongs I’ve made? Help me turn my heart back to you. Please find me a man and some worthy purpose to my life.

  She knew it was too late to fix her mistakes, and she cried lonely tears until she was exhausted. Then she got out of bed and splashed her face with cold water, returned to bed and picked up the diary again to read more. Often reading helped her to fall asleep.

  * * *

  What plan does my mother have? The way she talked about it, it sounded like another plan or another part of the plan and not just the journey. What is my mother up to? I will find that out soon enough. She is quite sly, but not in a bad way. Not like a fox that lies in wait to kill the chickens, taking the smallest or the weakest, or the one on its own. She is sly in the way that she works things out, and is always thinking, planning, and plotting things. I wonder if all mothers are like that.

  I was happy my parents told me they would miss me as I was leaving. I know they think they’re doing the best thing for me and they're not just sending me away to have some peace and quiet for themselves.

  I already miss Furball, my darling cat. He sleeps all day on my bed, and all night too. I’ve rarely seen him outside of the house in these last years. He loves to be stroked and patted. In the daytime, he gets under my quilt and looks like a lump on my bed. Still, I love him and he keeps me company. I found him near a bakery when I was a young girl. I saw him by himself and he was only a kitten. I screamed for Dat to stop the buggy, and when Mamm found out why I wanted to stop she said no and I got into big trouble for screaming.

  Dat stopped the buggy anyway. It was the first time and the only time I remember that he went against what Mamm said. He was the one who got out of the buggy and got the little kitty. My mother and I watched from the buggy as he crouched down and coaxed the kitty to come to him. He picked him up, put him under his coat, and carried him back to us.

  When Dat got back to the buggy, he handed him to me. He looked scared and dug his claws into me. Dat took off his coat and wrapped him in it and then the kitty was fine.

  I held the wrapped-up kitty all the way home, and Mamm was cranky all the way home and she said he’d grow into a furball. I had no idea what she meant but I didn’t care. I knew I’d be allowed to keep him. Anyway, that’s how Furball got his name.

  I think Dat wanted him just as much as I did, and then by the time we got home, he had talked Mamm into me keeping him. She said we had barn cats and we had more than enough. Dat said, if we didn’t give him a home he would come to a bad end. Eventually, Mamm came around.

  Now, the bus has just come to a stop. I must ask if this is where I’m supposed to get off. More later.

  * * *

  Now it is night time as I write this.

  After I got off at Holmes County, I saw my Auntie Elsie waving to me. She looks like an older version of my mother. Onkel Robert followed her as they walked fast to meet me.

  The buggy ride to their farm was full of surprises. Instead of flat paddocks and pastures like I was used to seeing, the countryside was hilly with small lumpy bushes rather than tall trees. When we turned a corner sharply, I saw the house in front of me. It was built on a hill, little more than a cabin.

  I counted twenty steps leading up the hill and to the front door. Once I reached the porch and looked back, I could see why they’d built the house there. They could see their entire property. It was a beautiful scene.

  I was left to have a little rest before I met my cousins. I had not met them before because of the long distance between us. I'd met my aunt and onkel a couple of years before when they came to a wedding by themselves.

  A little later, I met the cousins. Sally Anne is my age, Margaret two years older, then there’s Aaron and his twin, Miriam, who are one year older again. Titus is the oldest and he's very handsome. He’s married, but staying here to help my onkel increase the water supply to the farm.

  These are the conversations that were had today as clear as I can remember them.

  "Dinner will be ready in one hour, Agnes. You have had a long trip. Have a rest and Sally Anne will call you when dinner’s ready."

  “Denke, Aunt Elsie.”

  Later, sitting at the dinner table, Aunt Elsie said, "Have some of this lovely stew. Sally Anne prepared it while we were collecting you from the train. It is my Mammi’s chicken and onion stew. All the ingredients come from the farm here."

  I had a mouthful and declared it was more than delicious and asked Aunt Elsie if I could have the recipe and be shown how to make it. She said that she would show me before I left.

  Now, this is what shocked me:

  In front of everyone, Sally Anne said, “We were told you were lazy and very spoiled, and you think cooking and sewing are not for you."

  Aunt Elsie said, “Stop it, Sally Anne. You were not told anything of the kind."

  "Well, you left the letter from Aunt Greta lying around, and I read it."

  "You are very rude to read my mail, and to say such a thing at the table." Aunt Elsie shook her head and couldn’t look at me.

  “She might be rude, Auntie, but she's honest,” I said, "I was like Sally Anne just said, probably still am, but I want to change. Will you all help me? I want to learn to cook and sew and to collect some of your recipes, Aunt Elsie, and to help a lot on this lovely farm." I looked around the table and gave everyone what I hoped was a sincere smile. I was determined to beat everyone at their own game, and improve myself at the same time. I showed Sally Anne I wasn’t embarrassed by what she said.

  * * *

  Now it is the next night and dinner was pork casserole with sauerkraut. From the little things she says and does, Sally Anne has made it clear that she doesn’t like me and she goes out of her way to show it. I will write more about that tomorrow.

  So I don’t lose them on a scrap of paper, I’m writing the recipes I’ve learned so far in my book.

  Mammi’s Chicken and Onion stew.

  Ingredients

  2-4 tablespoons of cooking oil or fat

  1 whole chicken (about 5#) cut into pieces

  1-2 pounds onions, thin-sliced

  1 pound carrots, sliced or chopped

  1 pound peas-in-pods, whole or halved

  2-5 cloves of garlic, minced

  salt and pepper to taste

  Herbs as desired (sage, thyme, rosemary, marjoram …)

  Chives or parsley for garnish, snipped

  * * *

  Cookware

  Large soup pot

  Large frying pan

&nbs
p; * * *

  Method:

  In frying pan, brown chicken pieces in 2 tablespoons of oil.

  Transfer to soup pot and cover with water, rinsing juices from frying pan into soup pot. Cover the pot.

  Bring to a boil, then simmer for 1 to 2 hours. (If desired, debone the chicken at this point, and return meat to soup pot) continue to simmer.

  * * *

  In frying pan, brown sliced onions in 1 – 2 tablespoons of oil or fat. Then add 1 cup water and stir. Add onions and broth to the soup pot, and continue to simmer.

  Add carrots, garlic, and choice of herbs, and simmer until carrots are tender.

  Add peapods, simmer 10 – 20 min.

  Salt and pepper to taste.

  Thicken with flour or roux.

  *Add water as needed during cooking time to make desired amount of gravy.

  *Serve with boiled red-skin potatoes or with mashed potatoes.

  *Makes a good soup, too, with added liquid and seasonings to make more broth, and any other added vegetables you choose.

  Pork Casserole with Sauerkraut

  Ingredients:

  5 pounds pork ribs with meat

  1 pound onions, sliced thin

  2 – 4 quarts sauerkraut, amount based on your preferences

  1-2 tablespoons black peppercorns