Serena B. Miller - More than happy : the wisdom of Amish parenting

Thank you for downloading this Howard Books eBook.

Join our mailing list and get updates on new releases, deals, bonus content and other great books from Howard Books and Simon & Schuster.

C LICK H ERE T O S IGN U P

or visit us online to sign up at
eBookNews.SimonandSchuster.com

We hope you enjoyed reading this Howard Books eBook.

Join our mailing list and get updates on new releases, deals, bonus content and other great books from Howard Books and Simon & Schuster.

C LICK H ERE T O S IGN U P

or visit us online to sign up at
eBookNews.SimonandSchuster.com

Howard Books

A Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

1230 Avenue of the Americas

New York, NY 10020

www.SimonandSchuster.com

Some names and identifying characteristics have been changed.

Copyright 2015 by Serena Miller and Paul Stutzman

THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION, NIV Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Howard Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.

First Howard Books hardcover edition February 2015

HOWARD and colophon are trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event, contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com.

Interior design by Jill Putorti

Jacket design and illustration by Greg Jackson/Thinkpen Design

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

ISBN 978-1-4767-5340-9

ISBN 978-1-4767-5341-6 (ebook)

With thanks to Joyanne and Clay Hamwho opened the door
and
my Amish friends for their patience, wisdom, and hospitality

Amish parenting isnt a method. It is a way of life.

PAUL STUTZMAN

I barely noticed the white van sitting at the gas pumps beside me. It was late. I was tired. It was winter and the roads were slick. My home in southern Ohio was still fifteen miles away and I was in a hurry to get there.

The gas pumps were old and did not take credit cards. I was annoyed that I had to enter the small convenience store to pay. I was also worried about a friend in the hospital I had been visiting earlier. My fatigue and concerns totally absorbed me.

As I entered, I was surprised to see an Amish mother standing there with a baby in her arms. Two small boys and their little sister were beside her. The mother wore a black dress that came down to her ankles, a black bonnet, black coat, black shoes, black dress, black stockings. She glanced up as I came through the door, and gave me a sweet smile before turning her attention back to her three children, who were giving serious consideration to the candy rack.

I poured myself some coffee while the children quietly conferred on their choice of candy. The baby, wide awake, contentedly peered out from her mothers arms.

Decision made, the oldest onea little boy about eight years oldreached for three Tootsie Pops of various flavors. He handed the candy to his mother and then kept a watchful eye on his little brother and sister while the mother produced a black purse and paid the cashier.

A moment later, when she handed her children their treats, I heard each one politely say something that sounded like they were thanking her in a foreign language. The family went outside, the man driving the van helped them into the vehicle, and they drove off into the night as the cashier and I watched in silence.

Once they were out of sight, the young cashier shook her head in wonder. I see all kinds of people in here, but the Amish children amaze me. They are so well behaved and polite. Even the babies seem more content than our kids. I wish I knew how their parents do it. I try to be a good mother, but my two kids act like wild animals compared to the Amish children I see in here.

What were they doing here? I asked. And why a van? I thought those people rode around in buggies.

The driver said hed been hired to bring them back from a funeral. She shrugged. I guess maybe theyre allowed to ride in vans if there is a death in the family.

As I drove away, I kept thinking about that family and how odd it had felt to see children who were so polite and well behaved. Even though I could not understand a word they said, it was obvious there had been no quarreling between them as they discussed which candy to choose, and it had seemed as natural as breathing to them to murmur their gratitude when their mother handed them their candy.

The whole scenario brought back one night several years earlier, when we were living in Detroit and I had helped a nonprofit group sell souvenirs at a Detroit Lions football game. We had pennants and T-shirts and all sorts of knickknacks with logos on them. It was an important game and dozens of parents and their children came through the line. At times they came so fast that the faces and voices became a blur as I tried to keep up with the demand.

Then something happened that made me stop and stare. A boy, about twelve years old, watched as his father bought him a T-shirt, and then he said, Thank you, Dad. I really appreciate you getting this for me. It was such a simple thing to say, except that this was the first child in a long night of sales who had taken the time to say thank you. Most of the children seemed to take the gifts for granted or were unhappy that they werent getting more stuff. I had tuned out the whining and occasional tantrum, but was stopped cold by that one heartfelt thank you, and I have never forgotten it.

Thats how it felt inside the convenience store that winter night. I felt sad that the clerk and I, both of us mothers, would be so stunned by what should have been normal behavior.

It also struck me that this was the first time I had ever glimpsed an Amish person up close. It felt like I had witnessed an alien culture. Even the Amish womans sweet smile of welcome as I came through the door was different from the usual get-in-get-out-dont-make-eye-contact attitude that most people adopt when making a purchase in a convenience store.

I found myself wishing I could have spent time with that Amish mother. Talked with her. Found out more about her life. She had a quiet presence that made me wish we could be friends.

I soon discovered that this would not be the last time I would come face-to-face with the Amish. A local farmer informed me that they were actually starting to move to southern Ohio in fairly large numbers. I asked why. Because of the abandoned farms and cheap land, he told me. He was pleased. The Amish are known for helping stabilize an agricultural area. They are true farmers, he said.

I was delighted when a few months later an Amish produce stand appeared in a parking lot outside an auto repair shop in Muletown, Ohioonly ten minutes from my home. I was grateful for the mounds of locally grown produce the Amish farmer brought, but I was absolutely fascinated by the fact that the father usually brought one or two children with him to spend the day, even though they were sometimes too young to be of any real help. Yet again, I noticed the unusually contented behavior of the Amish children. The little ones were amazingly well behaved as they tried to help their father in whatever small ways they could.