Growing Up Amish by Ira Wagler Read Free Book Online Page B

element in Aylmer, Nicky Stoltzfus and his wife, Lucille, sold their farm and moved to a small, isolated community somewhere in the Midwest—someplace where they could live in extreme simplicity, where Nicky could allow the bristle of his mustache to sprout into the real thing, and where he could preach his long, bone-dry sermons in peace.
    Even Bishop Peter Yoder got caught up in the moving frenzy. Shortly after Nicky and Lucille pulled up stakes, Peter and his wife, Martha, decided to leave Aylmer as well and join a new settlement that was starting up in Marshfield, Missouri. And once again, several other Aylmer families followed.
    Why they went and what they were searching for was beyond the comprehension of my young mind. They just moved, and that was that.
    Amish people do that once in a while, for reasons not readily apparent to little children.
    But not our family.
    We stayed put. My father’s feet were firmly planted in Aylmer. He had no intention of moving anywhere, and that was fine by me. Aylmer was the only home I had ever known. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
    Some of my older brothers and sisters, however, could.
    * * *
    My sister Maggie was the first to leave. Fed up with Aylmer’s harsh rules and stifling discipline, she moved to Conneautville, a small town in northwestern Pennsylvania, where she took a job working in a nursing home. For a while, she attended services at the New Order Amish church in the area, but after a few years, she decided to leave the Amish altogether and joined a local Mennonite church.
    When she informed my parents of her decision, they made a hasty trip to Pennsylvania to try to convince her to change her mind. Mom didn’t say a whole lot. But Dad did. He blustered and cajoled and begged and threatened, but it was all in vain. Maggie remained firm.
    Frustrated, Dad could do nothing, and they returned home defeated.
    Those were tense and turbulent times. It was a huge blow to my father’s ego to have a daughter up and leave the Amish like that. My father was among the leading intellectuals of his people. A writer of many great stories, all laced with moral lessons and conclusions. Not to mention a strident defender of the Amish faith and lifestyle. What would his readers think?
    Of course, even as Maggie embraced her new life of freedom, she still felt a connection to her roots, and returned home now and again to visit for a few days—truly a brave thing for her to do.
    Dad always accosted her from the instant she walked in the door, berating and admonishing her incessantly during her entire visit. Frankly, I’m amazed she ever came back at all. But she did. And the other children were always delighted to see her.
    Then it was Jesse’s turn. At eighteen, Jesse was a strong, silent, burly young man—an intelligent loner who didn’t say much but thought a lot. And somewhere, deep inside, he instinctively knew there was something more, a better life, somewhere out there.
    Quietly, secretively, he made his plans. And then one night, without warning, he just slipped out through an upstairs window and disappeared.
    He turned up a few days later in Cleveland, Ohio, where he was soon visited by Dad and a small but strident contingency of Aylmer preachers.
    Jesse sat there silently as they cajoled, pleaded, and admonished.
    Would he not just come home and try it again?
    Surely it couldn’t have been so bad.
    It was all a misunderstanding.
    Things would be better if he just came home.
    Finally, against his better judgment, and after months of unrelenting pressure, Jesse allowed himself to be persuaded, and he returned home.
    He tried to settle back into the flow of things, but it was no use. Dad’s shimmering promises drifted off in the wind like the fluff they were. Things had not changed and would not change. Less than a year later, Jesse packed his stuff and walked out. This time his face was set. He would not return.
    He lived for