(This is still my favorite post)
It’s easy to mock and make jokes about people we don’t understand. I do – you may too. One of the subjects of my teasing has been the Amish – and they are strange – by our standards.
C’mon! Horse drawn carts and little electricity? No television, computers, movies, nor internet – in 2009? Are they for real?
But today I know I can never again joke about these gentle people. Two things have changed my mind. One is an Amish tradition; one is an Amish tragedy.
Rumspringa is an Amish tradition more radical than any religious practice to which I’ve been exposed. When they’re around 15 or 16 years old, Amish kids are given a free pass to the outside world. They may smoke, drink, have sex, do drugs – pretty much anything non-Amish kids do. And not behind Amish parents’ backs. This is encouraged by elders so young people can make a critical decision in life: to be or not to be Amish.
What? Give teens with raging hormones a chance to run free and THEN decide if they want to be just plain Amish? Do you know anybody else who believes enough in his or her religion to allow kids that choice? I don’t. But most Amish families have this kind of faith – and four out of five of the kids return to the fold. Hmmm…..
The second Amish fact kicked me harder still.
On October 16, 2006, Charles Roberts, a mentally-ill milkman from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, burst into an Amish schoolhouse. He terrorized and tied up 11 young girls and shot each of them before killing himself. Five of the girls died immediately. Many horrified parents arrived at the school within minutes. In anguish and confusion, they talked among themselves as the dead and dying were carried out of the small schoolhouse. And then a calm seemed to settle on the group.
A pushy TV reporter stuck a microphone into the face of a grieving father who had been told only moments before his own daughter was one of those murdered.
“Will you ever be able to forgive the killer?” the insensitive hack asked.
The father, who had tears streaming down his face, looked at the reporter, and smiled a gentle smile. His answer?
“We already have.”
I saw that on the news and it was far more faith than I could have- even after years of misery from a tennage death leaving orphans has almost d finaly worked itself out as it was planned. Still it took a strong woman to handle it. Women are 1,000 times stronger and with better instincts than us.- To protect the survivors.
A famous author -CONRAD RICHTER- wrote a short story about the west when the west was Pennsylvania. And a similar religious group had settled a valley and this is true. The name of the Story was THE HOPE CHEST. A large chest give to the wife when she married. None of the farms had locks and all people were invited in and treated with compassion including the indians. One day there was an uprising and the Indians came down the valley burning houses and murderring all the families that accepted their fates with faith. The wife demanded her husband protect their children and he refused, saying to put their faith in God. When the indians arrived at their farm the wife and father were arguing about using the rifle to fight the Indians. He said a flat NO!. The wife took the rifle and cold cocked her husband and locked HIM in the hope chest, howling to get out while she fought off the surprised Indians and were the only farm in the valley to survive. Then she let him out. Conrad Richters stories were full of true west stories from when the west was western N.Y. At one point the Indians ignored an 8 yr old boy who ran off while they killed his parents, and turned around to be shot by the eight year old, who I believe saved his sister. Growing up depends on when you have to. And I’m sure forgiving a dead crazy man is easier than forgiving a murderring fugitive. In the long run the Amish religion had already taught them that hatred is a self anialating poison.
Wow! Fascinating post, J B-I.
Forgiveness is the fragrance the rose leaves upon the boot that has crushed it.
From Mark Twain, I think.
What was the uprising about, or how did it start?