Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Where it all Began

    Spring was cautiously trying to peep through, but winter still had a grip on the land. A young married couple looked with great love at the little bundle they had just welcomed into the world. The young dark haired woman glowed with the glow of new motherhood as her handsome blue eyed husband gently cradled their firstborn. A tiny baby girl. For now, their joy was complete.
    They had been married for only a year. Life was good. A precious little baby. A big successful pig farm. Friends and family all around them. They were part of the tight knit little group of Amish in a small northern community. They were happy, so happy, it truly seemed like all their dreams had come true.
     That little baby was me. The firstborn and only daughter my parents had. Five boys were added throughout the years, but we'll come to them later.
    Not long after I was born, a tornado went through the area, and my parents lost everything they had. Escaping with only their lives and their baby daughter. The Amish stepped up and provided them with whatever they needed, but after suffering such a financial loss they sold their land and moved into a little house right next to Grandpa Mast's big farm house.
     The few memories I have of living there are only little snippets. My parents lived there for a few years and then moved to New York in the Finger Lakes Region where a new Amish settlement was starting. They moved into a little trailer on a dairy farm where Daddy would milk the cows morning and evening in exchange for rent and then had a day job at Wixson's Honey where he bottled honey all day long. It might not have been his favorite job, but as he likes to say, it was his sweetest.
     In the evenings while Daddy was in the barn Mom would prepare supper and if we had to wait on Daddy to come in and eat she would sit on a chair in the living room and my brother John, who was two years younger than me, and I would stand in front of Mom and she would sing the "Lob Lied" in the long slow chant like we would sing in church. She would encourage us to help by watching her mouth. At the ages of only two and four we were taught our first Amish church song. After Daddy came in we would eat and then prepare for bedtime. We'd all sing together, hymns and church songs and then our bedtime song, "Mude ich bin ich geh zur ruh Schliesze meine augen zu Vater lasz die augen dein Uber meine bette sein."*

*I am tired I'm going to rest I'll close my eyes tight Father (God) let your eyes Watch over my bed

15 comments:

  1. I'm looking forward to rereading your story as you repost it.
    Blessings,
    Betsy

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  2. I'm sorry you lost all of your posts. However, I just found your blog a few days ago and was looking forward to going back and reading your story. I'm sure it is annoying to have to repost everything, but I'm looking forward to it!

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  3. You are off to a wonderful reposting start!
    I don't even remember this post the first time around. Lucky me!

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    1. Thank you!

      I hope you'll enjoy journeying down memory lane with me again. :)

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  4. What a wonderful start to your story - I can hardly wait for the next installment! Many blessings on you and yours today!

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    1. Thank you!

      Happy to have you along for the ride. :)

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  5. I'm so glad you are going to be able to recreate your blog! Whoever wiped out all of your old posts was a real meanie.

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    1. Thank you! It will take time, but I'm willing to do it because I really don't want to lose the essence of this blog by no longer having those posts here.

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  6. Thank you for reposting. I remember that evening prayer as a child.

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    1. I love how those little prayers you learn as a child stay with you.

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  7. I have always been intrigued by the Amish way of life, it seems such a simpler time. I'm glad you stopped by my blog, now I have found yours! Looking forward to reading more of this story!

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  8. Sweet blog. I just signed up to receive a notice when you publish. Enjoying my visit. Hugs and blessings, Cindy

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  9. Just found your blog and this story sounds eerily like mine. I too am the oldest child born to Amish parents who also lost their home and possessions to a tornado before I was a year old. Our family's story is briefly mentioned in "The Mighty Whirlwind" by David Wagler. You probably grew up as I did with a large helping of tornado stories. I look forward to exploring your blog.

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Thank you so much for taking time to comment. I love hearing your thoughts.