Love Letters From the Grave(2)
‘She and her husband are being feted with a two-day barn-raising celebration. When a couple marries, it’s the obligation of the parents to set them up in the business of farming, providing them with a sizable piece of land and all the relevant building materials, animals, farming equipment, and furnishings. And then it’s the obligation of the community to build the house, the barn, and the other outbuildings.’
‘Over a weekend?’
It sounded impossible.
‘Over a weekend,’ said Luther. ‘Three days at the most. Impressive, huh?’
I nodded, watching the barn-raising unfold with more intrigue, now that Luther could bring it to life for me.
‘My family and I started with a hearty breakfast of ham, eggs, potatoes and biscuits at six am, then they boarded the buggy for the 8-mile drive while I drove behind. Molly had never before ridden in a horse drawn buggy, but Charlie said it brought back memories of his youth, living on his parent’s farm.’ Once again, Luther waved a hand at the distant crowds, but I still couldn’t spot this Molly and Charlie he was referring to. ‘Molly sat in the rear seat with Mary, Sarah’s mother, while Charlie sat up front with Aaron, Sarah’s father. He drove the horse at a pretty vigorous trot so they didn’t take long to get here. And when we did – wow. We were absolutely amazed at the huge crowd of people milling about.’
I followed his gaze and did a few quick calculations. ‘That’s got to be two hundred men, women and children.’
‘All sorted into groups for specific tasks and chores.’ Luther grinned. ‘I’ve only ever seen that level of organization on my family’s mini-farm.’
It was like a military campaign, though admittedly the most peaceful one I’d ever seen. The men, all bearded, and dressed in black trousers, white shirts and black hats, were organized into skilled construction teams, each headed by an experienced elder. They laid the foundations, constructed the buildings, and did all the painting, both the exteriors and interiors of the buildings. The teenaged boys, without beards but dressed the same as the men, worked directly with these teams, providing labor while learning vital building skills. Even the youngest boys of four and five years old were assigned to the different teams, fetching tools, building materials and supplies as demanded by the various crews.
The women, meanwhile, all dressed in bonnets, dresses and aprons in combinations of blues and white, managed the catering. While the teenagers did the table settings and ran refreshments to the working men, the younger girls provided assistance to the older women and teenagers, and took care of the infants.
The oldest women stirred the vast pots and ran from their houses with hot bread in their aprons, including the tall, strawberry-haired lady whom Luther appeared to be watching most closely.
Even at this distance I could see that she was serenely beautiful, as upright as one of those timbers in spite of her advancing years. I recognised her as the woman from the lake house, the one with whom Luther had been chatting as he trailed his boxes into the house. Now she stretched for a moment, her hands in the small of her back as she glanced across the field toward the carpenters.
Then I saw him. The elderly gentleman from the lake house turned his head, his Amish clothing not able to disguise the solidness of his form, or his blunt, handsome features. It was as if he’d felt her watching; instantly he turned and raised a hand, giving her a rueful grin which she quickly returned. They were so much a part of the whole, but somehow they seemed to stand out amongst the other women in blue dresses and men garbed in black.
I tore my eyes back to Luther as he described what was happening.
‘I joined them during the dinner break which was done in shifts,’ he said. ‘It was delicious - tender ham, and biscuits slathered with butter. Sarah came over and introduced us to Jacob, and Charlie wished them a marriage as happy, fruitful and successful as his and Molly’s. I have to tell you, any couple would be lucky to have that. They sure are a pair.’
‘But embracing the future,’ I reminded him, thinking of Jacob and Sarah. ‘Aren’t the Amish all … related? Surely that causes issues.’
Luther raised an eyebrow. ‘I wondered about that too. But they’ve got that covered, apparently. This particular farming community stretches over a radius, from the town, of around twenty-five miles, and a large number of the people are related. However, to avoid birth defects in their babies they have a managed, proactive system of mutual immigration between Amish Communities throughout North America. Jacob's family immigrated here from an unrelated Amish Community in northern Mexico when Jacob was only ten.’
‘So Jacob and Sarah aren’t even distant cousins. Ingenious.’
‘It really is,’ agreed Luther. ‘Planning well into the future.’
The evidence of all this ingenuity and sheer … community … was clear to see, and for a moment, I envied the simple productivity of it all, of how my own ancestors would have created our home. By evening, all the buildings would be erected, with only a bit of roofing remaining to be done. This, along with finishing the building interiors, doing the outside and inside painting, and completing some finishing touches, would be done on the second day, before turning the farmstead over to Jacob and Sarah. On the following day, as the final touches were being applied to the building, other Amish men and boys would fill the barn with hay, animal feed, animals and equipment, the house with furniture, curtains, drapery, linens, dinnerware, and utensils, and the outbuildings with tools and supplies.