Amish young men and women are
expected to marry among ‘the People’
-Amish Ordnung-
One
Lancaster County, Pennsylvania
Tuesday, June 29, 1886
Ida Lapp’s cheeks flamed the moment she spotted Johnny’s wagon creaking along the dusty road toward her family’s vegetable stand. She turned from her neighbor, Abram Walker, as he browsed the shelves of produce. Her ankle-length dress flared. She tried to still the flowing material.
She darsn’t give rise to suspicions she loved the Englisher. That would set tongues to wagging mighty strong, and the bishop would come calling to set things right. Dat and Momma would be powerful angry with her for going against the church Ordnung.
Abram threw Ida a verbal jab about something she didn’t catch. She brushed her blue apron to still her trembling hands. “Jah, Jah,” she said without paying attention.
Johnny disappeared behind a copse of trees, but she could envision his large brown floppy hat sitting askew and pulled low to shield his intense green eyes as they peered at her from beneath the crumpled brim, and his mischievous grin.
Abram tugged on his dark beard. “Ida?”
Ida gulped. Had she been caught? Folks called her Eduard’s Ida because she helped her father in the barn. But her daydreaming could create a new nickname. She shook off the thought. There was nothing she could do about the neighbors’ inclination to gossip. She cleared her throat. “We have a few asparagus sprouts today. How many of these big potatoes will Lyddie want? The usual eight, or are you having guests? In that case, she’ll need more.”
“Humph.” Abram kept his face blank, but his lips twitched. “Asparagus this time of the year? Ain’t natural.” His mouth jerked as if to keep from smiling. Two days ago, he’d bought half of their fresh-cut supply. “And you mind your words about my wife. Lyddie be a right fine cook.”
Ida stayed quiet. He always joshed her. It would never do to look as though she talked back to a man. It wasn’t the Amish way for a woman to speak.
His finger jabbed toward the shelf. “Maybe I’ll try them sprouts if they’re as good as you claim. And eight potatoes; not these little one, those.”
She indicated another small hand-woven basket off to the side. “How about these strawberries? They’re a bit small. The ones later in the season will be larger, but these are just as sweet.”
“Don’t push your luck. Just because you’re Eduard Lapp’s eldest don’t mean you can sell me the whole passel.” He winked at her. “Why Ida Mae, if I bought everything, you would have nothing to do and apt to get yourself into mischief.”
She wrinkled her nose and feigned a grin.
He squinted his gaze past her shoulder to the approaching wagon. “That be a nice team. That young man was here yesterday when I talked to your momma, and he was right polite for an Englisher.”
Abram had noticed Johnny O’Neil, and she had to say something but must be careful not to prolong the topic. “He helps his uncle Ben in Lancaster Town. He lives in Philadelphia and will return to his home after
his uncle’s broken leg mends.”
“Ben? Ben Strickland?”
“He works with horses at a livery stable.”
“So that be Ben’s nephew. He be a right handsome boy.”
Ida turned her head to hide the heat rising to her face. For sure and for certain she needed to change this conversation, but to shift it too quickly would raise suspicions. She looked toward the oncoming wagon. “His uncle Ben sends him here every day to buy Momma’s vegetables.”
Abram shifted his gaze back to her. A slight frown clouded his face.
Had she said too much? Did Abram suspect? If he did and told his wife Lyddie, the word would spread awful fast through the settlement, then Ida would be in a heap of trouble with her father, and the preacher, and the bishop.
Abram chuckled, his beard bobbing up and down. He extracted coins from his gray leather pouch and paid for his purchases. “Your momma said the first crop of peas was finished last week, meaning they were all. When will you have more?”
“She says the second crop be ready to pick from our other garden. I reckon come Thursday we’ll shell them out. Next month the cherries will be on the trees.” That would catch his interest. His delight in cherry cobbler, immersed in a sea of cream, had folks bestowing him the nickname of Cherry Abe.
“Eduard’s Ida, you tell Naomi to set aside some peas. About them cherries…” His eyes brightened. His tongue wet his lips like he could already taste the red tree berries.
She grinned. “Jah, I will tell Momma.”
Behind Ida, Johnny pulled the team to a stop in the shade of a large maple tree. She struggled not to glance at him; she mustn’t blush. The wagon creaked as he dismounted, and the horses stomped when he tied the reins to a tree. One of the team snorted while Johnny talked to them in low tones.
Every muscle screamed for her to run to her beau. Every desire tempted Ida to turn. She forced her hands to help Abram with his purchases, and her feet to follow along behind him.
Abram carted his basketful of produce to the black buggy and climbed aboard.
She handed him the reins. “I expect you’ll come back tomorrow like regular?”
“I expect.” He looked at her for a minute. “Ida, you’re a sturdy girl of nineteen and I’m surprised you haven’t found a beau. Some nice young boy don’t know what he be missing by passing over a girl like you.”
Her cheeks flamed and she looked down. Abram hadn’t said Ida was a handsome woman, but that’s what he meant. As a married man, it wouldn’t be appropriate to say she was pretty. Yet if he, or if anybody else thought she was good-looking, then why hadn’t an Amish boy at the bi-weekly youth sings taken an interest in her? She had no desire to be a maidel her whole life and never marry like Hannah Zook. However, since Johnny had arrived in the district, he’d courted and given her all the attention she craved. But they needed to keep it secret from her father and the church leaders.
She cleared her throat and dusted her fingers without looking at Abram.
“You quit making those fancy words, Cherry Abe. The Good Lord don’t like one to stretch the truth.”
He studied her a moment longer. “A pure gospel fact, Ida. A pure gospel fact.” He clicked his tongue and flicked the reins over his mare’s back to make a slow turn toward his farm. He soon disappeared over a small rise in the road.
Ida shook her apron and brushed it with her hands, then raised her eyes to Johnny.
His handsome smile seemed like a permanent fixture. His eyes lit up so much she felt certain they could shine in the dark. “Hello, Ida Lapp.”
By locking her knees, she throttled the urge to resume their session from last Sunday night’s ride when he let her off at the end of the lane, to kiss him full on the mouth. “Hello, Johnny.” She struggled to compose herself lest Abram turned to look over his shoulder. “And what are you buying for your uncle Ben?”
He raised an eyebrow. “The same as yesterday when your mother was here.” He winked and chuckled.
His look rippled through her. Her hands tingled. “And yesterday what did Momma sell you?”
“Green snapping beans and some potatoes.” He sobered and gave her a steady look. “I missed you, Ida. I hoped you would be here today.”
“I missed you too, Johnny.” For a few moments, no words were said, but their eyes carried their thoughts. “Rachel knows about us, but she won’t tell.”
“I’m glad your sister can keep a secret. Do your parents suspect?”
She shook her head. “Dat thinks it be okay for me to spell Momma at the vegetable stand. When I asked to take turns this morning, I was afraid he wouldn’t, but he agreed.”
“Can we go someplace else?”
A whole day with Johnny? They could go to Walnut Grove and skip under the branches, and run through the grass, and she would let it tickle against their legs. She could weave a circlet of flowers for his head, and he would envelop her with his arms…and if her family found her gone, she would be in trouble something awful. The thought of the imagined outing melted like ice in the summer’s heat. “It would be wonderful tempting, but I darsn’t.”
He sighed, looked at the ground, and nodded. “That’s probably best.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked under the covering of the vegetable stand to examine the produce.
One of his horses grew impatient, stamped its foot and snorted. Ida stepped over to the nearest animal and laid her hand on its withers. It shivered at her touch. The gelding turned its large head toward her and nickered. She ran her hand down the long soft nose.
Johnny spoke over his shoulder. “Bart likes you.”
“Bart?”
“Bill and Bart, this new team. They belong to my uncle. Bart’s a bit feisty at times and is slow to warm up to strangers. But he’s taken a liking to you, and that says a lot. I think he knows you’re a sweet girl.”
Her neck grew warm. She was glad she faced away.
He strode to the rear of the wagon and removed a handful of grain from a gunnysack. Upon stepping close to her he said, “Hold out your hands.”
She did as instructed, and he deposited a mound of crushed corn into her cupped palms. Bart tossed his head, nickered, and stretched his neck to get at the grain. She moved her hands under his nose, and he began nibbling. Johnny returned with another handful and fed Bill. A giggle escaped Ida when Bart finished and nuzzled for more.
“I’m impressed. He likes you a lot.” Johnny’s smile relaxed. “At best he’ll ignore someone. At worst he’ll nip them. He clearly doesn’t like my uncle.”
She frowned. “He owns Bart.”
“Uncle Ben won’t personally handle them. He lets me harness them and drive the wagon to show off these two beautiful animals. They’re a matched team and Uncle Ben says that parading them around is good for his livery business.” After Bill finished eating, Johnny dusted his hands on his trousers and wiped his brow with one arm. His sandy hair ruffled in the morning breeze. He turned slightly toward her. “Where’s your family?”
“Visiting the Messamers. After morning chores, I harnessed Sadie, our mare, to the buggy. Dat said for me to watch the farm until they returned.” She reached up and rubbed Bart’s nose. The animal lowered his head and allowed her to scratch around his ears.
Throughout the morning, neighbors stopped to make purchases and catch up on the local news. Johnny moved away to let Ida sell her produce and discuss events. Just past midday, Johnny said, “Uncle Ben gave me quite a few jobs to accomplish at the livery today: clean the stalls, get down the feed, currycomb the horses, and exercise them. I have to get everything done before sundown.”
A horse and rider drew near. Johnny retreated a step. He returned to her side after the man had passed. “I’ll come by every day and hope you’re here.” He kissed her goodbye.
All morning she’d longed for the lingering touch of his lips. Her heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t disappointed.
Johnny mounted the wagon and circled the team back toward town. He sat erect on the seat and waved, his hat flopping in the breeze.
She felt the urge to run after him, to call him back, or to sit beside him on the seat. Instead, she waved. He would return.
That evening, Dat called the family together for the regular Bible reading. For prayers they knelt on the floor, Rachel beside Ida, Mary and Martha opposite Dat, and the five-year-old twins, Amos and Aaron, on either side of Momma.
Afterward, Ida and Rachel trundled upstairs to their bedroom. Rachel slipped into her nightgown and spoke to Ida. “The family be guessing at which young fellow you court. You’re humming, have a permanent smile, and talk to yourself like never before. Everything points to courting a beau. The family don’t know details, but they have bushels of questions.”
Ida faced her sister. “What do they know?”
“They’re powerful curious. They talk about Levi Bontrager, Sol Burkholder, or Mose Stutzman. Dat guesses Levi. He be powerful handsome and right polite.”
They giggled at their parents’ failed attempts to discern Ida’s beau. But a year ago there had been the one sing, and the retelling of that incident kept rumors fueled. “What about Jake Beiler?”
Rachel’s gaiety dissolved like sugar in coffee. “I heard the bishop might shun him. Last October Jake was baptized and took the church vow. He agreed to put away English ways. Ain’t so? I heard that preacher Yoder seen Jake courting an English girl.”
Ida studied Rachel’s face. Ida courted Johnny, but she hadn’t joined the church. “I’m not baptized like Jake. I didn’t make the church vow. The bishop cannot shun me. Besides, you said you wouldn’t tell about Johnny.”
“I don’t need to, Ida. Someone be apt to see you and him together.”
The two girls crawled under the quilts. Ida needed to be careful. She must curb her exuberance. To be caught with an Englisher like Johnny would shame the Lapp family.
In the darkness, Rachel whispered, “Will you answer a question?”
“Perhaps.”
“How are you meeting Johnny?”
“He comes to the vegetable stand every day. When Dat lets me work there, we talk.”
“That explains why you asked Dat to spell Momma and work today.” Rachel paused a long while. “Does he meet you after the sing?”
“Jah. And he gives me a ride in his wagon.”
“You should stop before you’re seen.”
“I can’t.”
“I know, but you should.” Rachel hesitated. “I gave my word. Have your fun with this Englisher. But you better choose one of our Amish boys because if Dat or preacher Yoder find out, you will bring us disgrace. And Momma will die inside. Your Johnny be an outsider, and you know the faithful must have no association with those who are without.”
“I can no more stop than you can forget about Jonas.” Ida saw a flicker of understanding in Rachel’s eyes. She and Jonas Messamer kept their courting secret. If Dat found out, and with them being second cousins, Dat might put a stop to Jonas seeing her.
“If you don’t stop, then you know where this will head. Dishonor will be upon us Lapps, and Dat will want you to repent.”
Ida closed her eyes. “I can’t do that.”
“By disobeying you are sinning with pride. Can you live with that? When you go sinning there be a price to pay. Ain’t so?”
Ida didn’t answer. To stop seeing Johnny would be like having a horse stomp on her heart and splatter it like a squashed tomato.