A journey to Amish Country

Plain and Simple

“In the Zen Tradition a person goes through years of work to achieve self-forgetfulness.  The Amish almost seem to have that quality in their genes.  All equal, individually linked to God, each one knew that he or she was a necessary part in a larger universe.”

                                  Sue Bender (Plain and Simple)

         Some years ago, when my sons were young, we traveled from Alabama up to New England towing a camper.  One of our stops was in Amish country, Pennsylvania.  We went to Longwood gardens and stayed at a campground near Kennett Square, where my father-in-law had grown up.  In the evening of the first day, the black carriages of the Amish folk trundled into the park and rolled eventually to our plot.  Teenaged children were selling produce from their family gardens—cantaloupe, vegetables, herbs—and cheese made from their contented cows.  The pink cheeked, wholesome looking children were dressed in traditional garb, the girl in a purple frock with a see-through white cap, untied; the boy in overalls and white shirt and black hat.  They looked as though they had stepped out of history; materialized from an earlier, simpler time.  From that point on, I was fascinated with all things Amish, especially their quilts.

         Their quilts are made from the left-over fabric scraps of their hand-made clothing, so there is a limited color palette—black, purple, blue, dark red—no yellows at all, and no bold prints.  The patterns are simple, geometric, and symmetrical—except for one thing.  There is always a block turned backward or in the wrong direction or somehow out of kilter.  To make a perfect quilt would be prideful, and self-aggrandizing. 

         I don’t know exactly what it is about the Amish that causes one to feel calm and serene in their presence; perhaps their quiet energy, perhaps the silent, unhurried, non-motorized place, perhaps the long stretches of lush green farmland interrupted only by white frame houses and barns.  There are no Wal Marts, no Targets, no Lowe’s or Costcos.  There is only daylight and darkness and a simple, predictable way of life.  I wouldn’t want to live it full time, but there is something to be gained by going there now and then, by allowing the quiet to seep into your body and bring you to a resting place.  It is reassuring to know that there are people still living in peace and quiet in this land of the free.

                                  Shalom,

                                  Jane