through me as we scurry toward the darkened house by the light from our two lanterns.
âIâm going to clean up some,â he says as he turns on the water in the laundry sink on the back porch. âThen Iâll stay with Molly and the colt tonight.â
I remove the blanket from my shoulders and lay it over his hunched back. âYou might need this tonight.â
âThanks.â He continues scrubbing his hands.
âWill it disturb anyone if I clean up in the bathroom upstairs?â I ask.
âMamm and Daed are both heavy sleepers.â
âOh, good.â Iâm starting to shiver from the cold again. âThank you,â I mutter, not even sure what Iâm thanking him for. Perhaps just the prospect of warmth.
â Ja ,â he says solemnly, still focused on washing up. âThank you .â
With lantern in hand, I tell him good night, then quietly make my way through the kitchen and front room, creeping up the stairs until I finally reach the no-frills bathroom at the end of the hallway. Once I close the door, I fumble to find the switch to the battery powered-overhead light. It makes a lonely buzzing sound and lets out a greenish sort of light, but it illuminates the room better than the camp lantern. Of course, thereâs no lock on the door. I noticed that last night but figured it must be just one more oddity about the Amish. Or else privacy just isnât important to this family. At least Iâm relatively assured that no one will come busting in here at this hour. It must be nearly 2:00 by now.
Iâm just peeling off my dirty clothes and looking forward to a nice hot showerâcounting my blessings that Zachâs dad had the sense to install a propane hot water heaterâwhen I realize I have nothing clean to put on after my shower. I left my backpack, which is nearly empty anyway, in the barn loft.Iâm just hanging my less-than-clean T-shirt on a peg, deciding that Iâll have to sleep in that, when I hear a quiet tapping on the door. Snatching up a towel, I hold it in front of me. âSomeoneâs in here,â I hiss at the door.
âItâs just me,â Katy whispers as the door cracks open. âHere.â She dangles what looks like a flannel nightgown through the slit. âI thought you could use this.â
âYouâre an angel,â I declare as I take the garment.
She quietly giggles, then shuffles down the hallway.
After a long, hot shower, armed with a block of soap that smells faintly like cheese, I rub myself warm with a stiff, rough, line-dried towel that makes my skin tingle and finally pull the thick flannel nightgown over my head. Very cozy!
I know itâs ironic, but as I tiptoe down the hall to the girlsâ bedroom, I feel extremely grateful for these unexpected Amish âluxuries.â How wonderful to have indoor plumbing, hot water, clean and dry clothes, and a real bed! As I slip between the sheets, which feel much softer tonight, I utter another silent prayer.
This time itâs a prayer of thanksgiving, first and foremost for the miracle that occurred out in the barn tonight, but also for these simple comforts. I smile to think of what Lizzie would think of me right nowâfeeling so delighted with so little. As I drift off to sleep, I vaguely decide that many of lifeâs delights are simply a matter of perspective.
8
W hen I wake up on my second morning at the Miller house, Zachâs sisters make no special efforts to be quiet as they get dressed. Iâm not sure if itâs because they no longer consider me a âguestâ or just didnât realize I was there when they got up. It doesnât matter anyway since despite getting only a few hours of sleep, Iâm wide awake. Sitting on the edge of the bed in the borrowed nightgown, I watch, mesmerized, as the three sisters help each other dress for school. They seem to have a routine all worked outâalmost like
Yenthu Wentz
Aneesa Price
Suzanne Weyn
Mary Marks
Craig Johnson
Patrice Michelle
Kate McMullan
Sherryl Woods
Steven Savile
Hallie Swanson