When I first began being “… out among the Amish,” I was like a giddy teenage girl heading to the Prom.
I’d gasp, and at the same time let out a shrill scream, followed by giggles and, “Oh my gosh, OH My GOSH, the buggy is coming this WAY!!!”
Now, I’m silent.
OK, maybe not silent.
Oh sure, you might hear me say, “There’s a buggy … up ahead.”
Or, “Amazing…look at the young boy driving those horses.”
But it is different now.
I used to live “out among the English.”
However, in the last decade, I traded the fast-paced world of consumerism for a simple existence, on “our 40.”
For years I watched, and admired the Amish. Then a world of dog mushing and living with Siberians, Alaskans, and farm animals presented itself to me.
It was the perfect blend.
Yoked with the perfect husband.
Before I knew it, I was stepping back. Way back.
And now, when I see the Amish, like at a recent Amish auction, I simply nod.
A knowing nod.
One that says, I, too, understand.
Simple, plain, and Godly.
Until tomorrow ~ God willing,
Woodswoman