Longing

Last week I visited an Amish greenhouse. Twice. I went with Kevin one evening during the week, and we were so impressed I had to share it with some friends and my mom again on Saturday. I got some plants for the garden and some flowers to set out. Then I got some more flowers to set out. When I leave the Amish people, it is always with a longing for a simpler life. I said "simple." I did not say "easy." I am not so naive that I think their lives are easy. I may not know how difficult their lives are with their lack of modern conveniences, but I do know a little bit about some of the things they do. And I am not scared of those things. I mean, while we do have an electric saw and grinder, we butcher our own beef and pork at home. For the past few years we have raised chickens to dress for the freezer. And then there is the garden. I can tomatoes and potatoes and green beans. We make salsa and sour kraut. We freeze corn and peppers. It is a lot of work, but I always feel glad when it is done.
I love working together to be productive. The whole family is involved in planting the garden. When we butcher, Kevin does the jobs involving cutting and causing live things to be dead. I do more of the wrapping and labelling type jobs. Jaron helps me tape packages for the freezer, or hands me things, and Madison has become expert label writer (If a package winds up saying T-bone Stake, you still know what is in there!). I love the warm security that comes from looking into our freezer and pantry and not having to worry about what to feed my family. It is a blessing that counts.

When I think about myself trying to survive in the past, or living as the Amish do, I realize there are things I would definitely miss. I would miss phones. I would miss vehicles and electricity and iPods and Internet. I would miss air conditioning. I would miss birth control options. I am not going to lie about it. And I would miss pants. A lot. I am sure there are many other things I am failing to mention, but regardless of them all, I have to admit there are a few things I long for that I think they are getting right.

Like how they have work that is conducive to their family life. Next to this wonderful and productive greenhouse, a swing was swaying in the breeze. There was an adjacent sandbox with toys and shovels poking out of it. A little boy ran away and came back with a young chicken to show to Megan, and she patted its little head and squealed with delight, bringing a dimpled smile to the boy's adorably freckled face. I mean, these people don't drop their babies off at a sitter and drive off to work five days a week. I visited with the young mother who lived there. She was fascinated with my children and their ages. Her children were close in age to mine. Although she had seven children, total. She marveled at how "steady on her feet" Megan is. What impressed me was the fact that instead of her being inside pulling her hair out, elbow deep in housework, she was working in the greenhouse on a Saturday with the children scattered about. She had a smile on her face and mud on her shoes. She was the most friendly and talkative Amish woman I have ever met. I wanted to pull her aside and ask her about all of her secrets and challenges. I wanted her to teach me how to be more like her. With regular hot showers. And my favorite shows recorded on my DVR. And snuggle time with my kids at night, which feels like the softest pajamas and smells of lavender baby wash and Gain--Mango Tango laundry detergent. It could happen.