In the living room, standing on top of the desk, was a large, beautiful, carnival glass candy bowl. It was never empty. We weren't allowed to touch it, but every Saturday Mom would lift it off and hold it down so we could choose a piece or two as a reward kind of thing for being good helpers.
It was something I looked forward to all week.
And then the most wonderful of things happened. A customer, intrigued by all things Amish, happened to stop in our store one day. She bought a little something, and then several days later she was back with her grandchildren so they could meet us as well.
I don't know if it was our large garden, our plain homemade clothes, or the fact that our main source of transportation was a horse and buggy, but for some reason she thought we would never have tasted candy before.
She presented each of us children with a brown paper grocery bag, filled to the brim with candy.
After she left Mom allowed us to choose a few pieces, and then the rest was tucked on the top shelf in the pantry. We could have one piece per day, and had to share a lot of it with our friends.
The lady continued to visit several times a month, always bearing things she thought we would not get to experience otherwise. Delicious cakes, cookies, jams and jellies, and always more candy.