Quilts For Sale

Moving across the United States always brought unwanted anticipation. The questions raced through my mind as I embraced the new adventure. Would I like my new home and the people who would surround me? Could I find a good doctor for my family? Would everyday necessities cost more? Where would I purchase feed and hay for our animals? Is there a good veterinarian in the area? So many things to consider and all of them out of my control. This particular move brought a deeper venue, a change in culture. We were moving among the Amish. I enjoyed soaking in the ambiance of the passing buggies. Slowing down to consider another way of life was something I admired. On my way to town to get groceries, I would take the Amish backgrounds and drink in the beautiful farms with pristine gardens laden with flowers. Often times, I would see a Amish farmer working with his majestic draft horses gathering shocks into a neatly packed array. As I rode further down the dirt roads, I passed an Amish one room school house. This was another cherished opportunity to watch the children playing in their school yard enveloping in the traditions of their community.
One of my favorite stops was the Amish tack store. The buggies were hitched to posts out front. When entering the dimly light wooden building, the stoves were filled with coal that brought about a warmth that was like no other. The heavy boarded floors resounded as you walked through out the shop. The shelves were neatly stacked with work boots, oil lamps, and other accessories. The upstairs was filled with saddles and bridles. Along the wall were red wagons awaiting the some little boy or girl who would happily use them for pleasure or possible to carry supplies. Even the Amish children knew what it was to work and contribute to the livelihood of their family.
There was always a few Amishman off to the side of the front counter. They busily repaired leather bridles and any other work that needed to be done for their Amish and English customers. I frequented this tack shop for some time before I was no longer looked at as an outsider but someone that was here to do business like so many others.
On one particular day, I noticed a black and white hand painted sign out front of an Amish home that read, Quilts For Sale. As I pulled in, I marveled at the serenity of the this home. We went in the little shop and sitting quietly doing some needle work sat a Amish lady. She sat quietly while we looked through the endless displays of hand sewn quilts. There was a rack of quilts that were neatly displayed. A double bed sat next to a sun lite window that you could fold back one quilt after another. An endless masterpiece of hand sewn needle work that created some of the most beautiful patterns and an endless array of colors.
On one of my many stops to the Amish quilt shop, I noticed my little Amish lady entering her house to have coffee with an English neighbor. I remember thinking what a honor and privilege to have and Amish friend and especially this one.
One day I got up the nerve to ask her name and she glanced from her work to say in a slight Dutch accent, Mary Ann. She seemed to become more comfortable with me as my daughters and son would enter on a regular weekly basis.
On one of my visits she asked if I would take her to pick up a new Chihuahua puppy at another Amish house. A buggy ride would be quite a ride but a ride in a car would get her there and back in no time. She was so excited to get her new puppy and offered to pay me for my time. I surprised her by saying, that I would take a kiss on the cheek for payment. May Anne giggled and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
Our friendship grew and we were later invited to their home for a dinner. This was like being in a dream or stepping into the pages of a story book. These were not just some Amish people, Danielle and Mary Ann became true friends.