The Amish Cook: Accepting help, the Amish way

Yesterday, this little home of ours was a hive of busy bees; I have never seen the likes. Two van loads from Ohio came to help us with our workload, then by late afternoon our youth and several families joined in and brought supper. There were people everywhere, each willing to make a difference in their own little corner.

It was simply delightful; it was not only the work being done, but it was just plain epic to have so many dear people at my house at once! Inside, windows were being shined and walls washed; some painted the kitchen ceiling and walls — it’s absolutely amazing what a difference it made.

I kept busy walking from one project to the next, answering questions and such. Out on the deck, 39 quarts of pizza sauce and 32 quarts of soup were being canned, a huge batch of energy balls was being mixed, and a sewing machine buzzed away. Downstairs, the bathroom was getting a fresh, clean look with a new ceiling put up on the floor joists and new sides on the walls. Others cooked red beets in the basement kitchen to can. Clear contact paper went on dozens of books.

Today, they plan to trim the basement windows, line the basement entrance walls with beautiful woodsy-looking sheets of flooring, and stake up the raspberries and blackberries.

Outside, excavating was done to put a yard in back behind the shop and around the cabin. Yesterday morning, before we even got out of bed, Daniel’s brother, Joseph, from Ohio was already hauling loads of chopped concrete into a giant washout in the creek in the woods behind our house. The backyard washout is also fixed, and tile has been trenched in to carry the water from the gutters on the house to the ravine — and plans are to reseed the backyard today, now that the trenches are covered and the swale around the back has been corrected.

Gravel went under the screened-in porch with a border and weed barrier underneath. The board fence got stained, the house was power washed, and caulking was done on the shop roof. Plans are to put a new ridge cap on the warehouse as well. They redid landscaping, and the cabin got a good spring cleaning. And take this, all the chestnut trees have new guards. Firewood was cut and stacked. And the woods? They cleaned out what I can only describe as, UNFUHSHTENDIH!! (A Pennsylvania Dutch term for “incredible!”)

Today the two van loads from Ohio plan to stay and work until noon, wrapping up projects, then head home.

Sister Mary is ready to go over the lists for today with me, so I’ll be back once the dust has settled around here!

Wow, this is flat-out amazing. The youth have come and gone. The lists have been checked off, and now we are left to enjoy the results in various corners of our home. Not only will we reap many benefits in the months ahead as we pack lunch buckets with homemade convenience foods, somewhere between 30 and 40 dozen cookies packed in individual bags, pizza pockets, pigs-in-a-blanket, meatballs, casserole, and fiber ball squares, all tucked into the freezer, but we have also reaped the rich benefits of friendship. It was a time of rekindling old friendships and establishing new ones. And they brought all the food along themselves, except for one meal and some of the cookies!

My heart overflowed many times, but among my highlights was gathering with those 14 girls on the deck after the crowd had dwindled. The pressure cooker sang its little sizzly song as we chatted. I took the opportunity to share with them how much this really meant to me. Yes, I enjoy many things around the farm, but the reality remains that even when I am helping my sons with a project or going around doing things Daniel would have done, I’ll come into an empty house in the evening, and it’ll be up to me to get a meal placed on the table and keep things balanced through the rest of the evening. While I have lots of support and in many ways love life, the rubber does hit the road — there is much in everyday life that also brings many tears and much pushing through. Motioning to the rows of chunky soup and pizza sauce they had canned that day, I told them, “It’s more than just a jar of soup,” I told them. “It’s provision, and it’s care.”

I felt sad to see them all go back home, yet I was eager to go on with life here. We were given a jump start, and people took the time and energy to demonstrate their support. That afternoon the children romped and played in the woods that had been cleared of brush and briars that had kept us from using most of the wooded area behind our house. Honestly, they weren’t the only ones running and relishing the quiet wonder of woods that could once more be enjoyed. Memories of girlhood days flooded through me — how my troubles all seemed to vanish as I ran or biked the trails my brothers and I had made. Now it was my children and I tossing ideas on where we’d have our primary family campfire and how we’d like to invite the church to come roast chestnuts with us back in the woods. That first evening, we ate our picnic supper next to the creek, where we built a little fire and had a relaxing time together as a family.

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