crossing the line

My mom has a big heart. Most mothers do. Today, as we find ourselves passing Amish buggy signs near Lancaster, Ohio, I am reminded of a childhood memory that started simply because my mother was kind. 

Sometimes we experience medical trauma in our lives that lands us in the hospital. When that happens, we meet people along the way, hear their stories and get a chance to make a new friend. The new friend can be a doctor or nurse, our roommate, or even members of our roommate’s family. 

That was the case for my mom back in 1980. She went into the hospital for a major surgery. All went well as far as I recall, but it required a hospital stay. Mom found herself befriending an Amish woman, Amanda, who kept her head covered. No one else on the floor seemed interested in talking with someone who was different from them. But Mom did. She always seeks out those who need a friend. With days together, Amanda and Mom quickly formed a friendship but after leaving the hospital, they mainly kept in touch through penned letters mailed directly through the postal service. Amanda didn’t really have access to any other form of communication. 

Amish Buggy Road Sign In Lancaster, Ohio

Like every phone at the time, the handset was connected to a receiver base through an attached cord and plugged into the wall. You could only go as far as the cord would reach. I remember our house phone. I could get almost the whole way back our long hall and into the bathroom before the handset would suddenly recoil and go bouncing back toward the kitchen. But it was 1980 and Amanda was Amish. There was one communal phone somewhere on a pole in the general vicinity of her house, but she never used it. 

So, Mom would write to Amanda and only call on rare occasions when someone could get a message to her friend. Somehow, Mom got word to Amanda and her family that we would come and visit. So, out we went, driving for what seemed like forever to me. In reality, it was about a 40 minute drive, but I was young so it seemed far away. I’m sure as we drove, Mom went through a long list of dos and don’ts. 

Amanda’s family lived on a farm back a long lane. When we finally arrived, true to the nature of children, Amanda’s daughter Annie and I made fast friends. When we sat down for dinner, true to form, Amish children poured out of every corner and we were surrounded by Annie’s siblings at the table. Christ (pronounced Chris), Annie’s father, sat at the head of the table and said, “Let us pray.” Everything was strange and different for me that day, but this I understood. My family had prayed before every meal since the day I was born. 

I bowed my head and waited for the prayer to begin. And I waited. And I waited. And then I peeked. Everyone still had their heads bowed. My 8 year-old little self could hardly be contained. I bowed my head again and waited, ready for the prayer to begin. And I waited. Then I did a casual side peep. The one where you don’t want people to see you’re checking if their eyes are open yet. After awhile, Christ picked up his fork and started eating. As if in one fluid motion all his children were eating while I was bewildered at how they could choreograph such a moment in complete silence. We ate in silence, then were dismissed while Christ and the boys went to the barn to work. 

Our adventure continued at the Stoltzfus house, as Annie and I ran off to her bedroom to play. A little while later, my mom looked up in shock as Annie and I emerged from her bedroom and scampered down the stairs. We had traded clothes. Her plain, straight, dark, conservative dress for my daily play pants and t-shirt. Annie’s mom quickly moved from shocked to amused and sent us to show her father.

Running to the barn, Annie proclaimed to her father, “Jody is dressed Amish. I am dressed like an Englishman.” As his sons looked at us with wide worried eyes, Christ looked at us sternly, then broke into a smile, chuckled and responded in his Germanic way, “Kinder funny!”  The barn relaxed and laughter erupted. Then we were promptly sent back to the house to change. 

Amanda and Mom’s friendship could have ended in that one moment. Unbeknownst to me, Annie and I had crossed a line. Thankfully, Christ wasn’t angry and saw the moment for what it was - two kids playing dress up. 

Mom’s friendship with Amanda opened up a whole new culture and way of life to me. It was something I had never experienced before. It showed me how to accept and love someone who wasn’t like me. 

In the same way, Christ’s kindness that day on the Amish farm was God honoring. He opened his home to folks that were very unlike he and his family. We were worldly and way outside their belief system. Yet, Christ welcomed us into his home and showed us what Jesus meant in Matthew 22:39 when he said, “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

That’s a Biblical lesson that makes the world a better place. We provide for, fight for, protect, love, support, and pursue greatness for ourselves. It’s our turn to show what Jesus meant in Matthew 22:39. Whether they are like us or not, we are to love our neighbors as ourselves. Let’s provide for, fight for, protect, love, support, and pursue greatness for others. And give our kids the chance to see how to love and accept someone who is different from themselves.  

Searching for wisdom and asking for grace,

Jody