together.”
“Makes sense.”
“Back to your history lesson. In nineteen hundred there were about five thousand Amish in America and Canada. Currently, there are over two hundred thousand. Ohio andPennsylvania have the largest settlements. We have about three hundred seventy-five church districts among the dozen or so different types of Amish.”
Intrigued in spite of himself, Phillip asked, “What do you mean different types? Aren’t they all one religion?”
“Yes and no. They range from ultraconservative like the Swartzentrubers who live without gas, electricity or indoor plumbing and don’t even allow cushioned chairs in their homes, to the Beachy Amish. They use electricity and drive cars. However, the cars must be black. They paint the chrome bumpers black so they don’t appear ‘fancy’ or worldly.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. If you’re Amish and you must use a computer for your business and your church group doesn’t allow it, you can join a more progressive group.”
“Do they switch?”
“Not very often. Okay, here we are.” She slowed the car, turned onto a gravel lane and drove up to a large, rambling white farmhouse.
An elderly Amish woman sat on a rocker on the front porch surrounded by three young girls of varying ages. They all had large pans in their laps.
The woman’s face brightened into a big smile when Amber got out of the car. Putting her pan aside, she held out her hands. Amber raced up the steps and sank to her knees beside the woman. “Hello, Mammi. ”
“My English granddaughter finds time to visit me at last. I thought I was going to have to get a driver to take me into Hope Springs to look for you.”
Phillip walked around the hood of Amber’s car and stood beside the steps.
Amber laid her hand on her grandmother’s arm. “I’m sorry. I will come more often, I promise.”
“You must not forget us while you are out in the Englishworld. Who have you brought with you? Your young man perhaps?” She eyed Phillip hopefully. He knew his face had to be turning red.
Amber giggled like a schoolgirl. The sound was adorable. “No, Mammi, don’t go planting extra celery for me. This is Dr. Phillip White. We work together. Phillip, this is my grandmother, Betsy Fisher.”
Betsy studied him with interest. “I thought your doctor was old, like me.”
“This is his grandson.”
Phillip stepped forward. “How do you do, madam? It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You will stay to supper, ja? ”
“Unless we get called back for an emergency, I’d love to. I’m finding Amish cooking is full of hidden delights.”
“ Gut! Amber, your Tante and Onkel should be home soon. They’ve gone to market.”
Amber glanced from Phillip to her grandmother. “I’ve brought Phillip here today so you can talk to him about Amish ways.”
Betsy’s eyes brightened. “What is it about our ways that you would like to know?”
“Many things.”
She spoke in German to the young girls who were watching the adults intently. The girls set their pans on the floor and went into the house.
Betsy looked at Amber for a few seconds, then said, “Go and help your nieces prepare supper, Amber. They have many questions for you about living in the English world.”
“Yes, Mammi. ” Rising, Amber kissed her grandmother’s cheek, then followed the younger girls into the house.
Turning her sharp gaze back to Phillip, Betsy scrutinized him long enough to make him squirm. Finally, she patted thechair beside her. When he sat down, she handed him a pan. “Have you snapped beans before?”
“No, but I’m a fast learner.”
She chuckled warmly. “A man willing to learn a woman’s task is a man I like. Ask your questions, Phillip.”
Chapter Twelve
A mber visited with her young cousins in the spacious kitchen but kept an eye on Phillip and her grandmother through the big window overlooking the porch. Could her grandmother make him understand that the Amish weren’t some
“Makes sense.”
“Back to your history lesson. In nineteen hundred there were about five thousand Amish in America and Canada. Currently, there are over two hundred thousand. Ohio andPennsylvania have the largest settlements. We have about three hundred seventy-five church districts among the dozen or so different types of Amish.”
Intrigued in spite of himself, Phillip asked, “What do you mean different types? Aren’t they all one religion?”
“Yes and no. They range from ultraconservative like the Swartzentrubers who live without gas, electricity or indoor plumbing and don’t even allow cushioned chairs in their homes, to the Beachy Amish. They use electricity and drive cars. However, the cars must be black. They paint the chrome bumpers black so they don’t appear ‘fancy’ or worldly.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. If you’re Amish and you must use a computer for your business and your church group doesn’t allow it, you can join a more progressive group.”
“Do they switch?”
“Not very often. Okay, here we are.” She slowed the car, turned onto a gravel lane and drove up to a large, rambling white farmhouse.
An elderly Amish woman sat on a rocker on the front porch surrounded by three young girls of varying ages. They all had large pans in their laps.
The woman’s face brightened into a big smile when Amber got out of the car. Putting her pan aside, she held out her hands. Amber raced up the steps and sank to her knees beside the woman. “Hello, Mammi. ”
“My English granddaughter finds time to visit me at last. I thought I was going to have to get a driver to take me into Hope Springs to look for you.”
Phillip walked around the hood of Amber’s car and stood beside the steps.
Amber laid her hand on her grandmother’s arm. “I’m sorry. I will come more often, I promise.”
“You must not forget us while you are out in the Englishworld. Who have you brought with you? Your young man perhaps?” She eyed Phillip hopefully. He knew his face had to be turning red.
Amber giggled like a schoolgirl. The sound was adorable. “No, Mammi, don’t go planting extra celery for me. This is Dr. Phillip White. We work together. Phillip, this is my grandmother, Betsy Fisher.”
Betsy studied him with interest. “I thought your doctor was old, like me.”
“This is his grandson.”
Phillip stepped forward. “How do you do, madam? It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You will stay to supper, ja? ”
“Unless we get called back for an emergency, I’d love to. I’m finding Amish cooking is full of hidden delights.”
“ Gut! Amber, your Tante and Onkel should be home soon. They’ve gone to market.”
Amber glanced from Phillip to her grandmother. “I’ve brought Phillip here today so you can talk to him about Amish ways.”
Betsy’s eyes brightened. “What is it about our ways that you would like to know?”
“Many things.”
She spoke in German to the young girls who were watching the adults intently. The girls set their pans on the floor and went into the house.
Betsy looked at Amber for a few seconds, then said, “Go and help your nieces prepare supper, Amber. They have many questions for you about living in the English world.”
“Yes, Mammi. ” Rising, Amber kissed her grandmother’s cheek, then followed the younger girls into the house.
Turning her sharp gaze back to Phillip, Betsy scrutinized him long enough to make him squirm. Finally, she patted thechair beside her. When he sat down, she handed him a pan. “Have you snapped beans before?”
“No, but I’m a fast learner.”
She chuckled warmly. “A man willing to learn a woman’s task is a man I like. Ask your questions, Phillip.”
Chapter Twelve
A mber visited with her young cousins in the spacious kitchen but kept an eye on Phillip and her grandmother through the big window overlooking the porch. Could her grandmother make him understand that the Amish weren’t some
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