Mail Order Marriage

           In the airplane, the mother frowned, rolling her head in a circle while being ignored by her daughter who stared out the window.

           “Marie-Anne.” Mrs. Dickson, the mother and twice her age, grabbed the daughter’s arm to make her pay attention. “You’re twenty-six years old. I can’t believe you agreed to be a mail-order bride. Straight out of the old westerns. What if he is a gunslinger?”

           “He won’t be like that,” said Marie-Anne. “Let me read this again.”

           “Not again. It’s just an ad from a newspaper. I wish you’d never printed it off.”

           “’I’m a widower and no longer belong to the Amish order. I’m looking for a bride who wants to share my honest work and life. Hard work will be ahead of us, but it’ll have rewards. I’ve much more to say, but it’ll be easier said in person.’” She faced her mother. “Does that sound like a gunslinger?”

           “You should’ve got to know him better!”

           The shout caused everyone in the airplane to look at the pair. Mrs. Dickson’s face turned red.

           “You didn’t need to come,” said Marie-Anne.

           “I’m not going to meet my son in law on your wedding day,” said the mother. “I want to know what you’re getting into.”

           The plane landed in the Wichita Kansas airport. As they entered the terminal, the other passengers passed around two men holding a sign saying “Marie-Anne Dickson”. One man wore casual clothes like most men.

           The other one had people staring at his full brown beard, his plain black hat with a wide straight brim, and his black pants. He looked Amish. And out of place

           “Ohh my,” said Mrs. Dickson. “You’re joining a freaking cult with multiple partners. Come back home with me.”

           “No,” was the quick reply. “Go back if you want. I’ve lived with you long enough. I want a life of my own.” The young woman walked toward the men.

           “I’m not leaving you here alone.” The mother hurried to join her daughter.

           “I’m Ezra Bontrager,” the Amish looking man said, and held out a hand for a handshake. Marie-Anne took it and felt a firm grip.

           Turning to the older woman, he said, “You must be her mother, Mrs. Dickson, and traveling companion.” He held out his hand again, but pulled it back, seeing how reluctant she was to shake hands.

           The second man shook hands with Marie-Anne and said, “Glad to meet you Marie-Anne and Mrs. Dickson. My name is George Edelmayer. I drove Ezra here in my car.”

           Mrs. Dickson looked Ezra in the eye. “If you want to marry for her fortune. Well, there isn’t any.”

           “Mother!” Marie-Anne glared at her. “That’s not why he wants a bride. I want to hear what Ezra has to say.”

           Ezra relaxed and smiled. The mother pursed her lips and tapped her foot.

           “Let’s load up in my car,” said George.

           “Why didn’t you come in your own car, Ezra?” asked Marie-Anne.

           “I don’t have one.”

           After finding the luggage, the group walked to the car.

           Ezra walked next to Marie-Anne. “You’re probably wondering why I still appear Amish.”

           “Yes,” said Mrs. Dickson. That thought did occur.”

           “I grew up Amish and I like the lifestyle.”

           Marie-Anne, who kept up with his pace, looked him in the eye. “Then why don’t you consider yourself Amish?”

           Ezra looked in her eyes, and slowed enough she wasn’t hurried. “I read the Bible and found differences between what the leaders teach and what the Bible says. I believe the Bible more than them. They didn’t like my questions, so they excommunicated me. Now they are shunning me.”

           “Shunning?” said Marie-Anne. “Is that when they ignore you?”

           “Yes. Amish women can’t marry me. Modern women don’t like the way I live.”

           “See?” said the mother. “Listen to him.”

           “I, uh, I …,” said Marie-Anne.

           “Please give me a chance,” said Ezra. “Is a week too long to ask for?”

           “She won’t stay that long,” said Mrs. Dickson with her lip trying to form a sneer. “I won’t let her.”

           Marie-Anne turned on her mother. “You’re the one nagging me to get a husband.” She looked at Ezra. “I’m staying for a week.”

           As they drove, the size of the buildings and businesses became smaller. Gaps with grass appeared between them. When trees and grass began to dominate the scenery, the modern houses could barely be seen because they were set so far from the road.

           The car turned on a gravel road. The houses became old farmhouses; some were abandoned. George finally pulled into the driveway to Ezra’s house.

           The porch of the two-story house stretched the length of the house. Butternut squash and pumpkins filled much of the porch. The rocking chair next to the front door appeared inviting.

           “Come in,” said Ezra. “Sit down while I bring tea and cookies.”

           Mrs. Dickson examined the house from her seat. No pictures accented the wall, but the beauty of the wood walls meant they were unneeded. She admired the woodwork of the China cabinet and the table which could seat ten. A light breeze fluttered the tall window’s curtain.

           “See, mother?” said Marie-Anne. “He’s not a gunslinger. He’s friendly than you are, clean, and he doesn’t have a lot of clutter.”

           Ezra tried to change the subject. “How was your plane trip?”

           “Mother hates flying, so I sat by the window. I saw a rainbow! It was a complete circle!”

           “Really?” said Ezra “I wish I could’ve seen it.”

           Marie-Anne smiled.

           The mother tapped fingers on the table, but picked up another cookie with the other hand.

           “How about a buggy ride?”

           “It sounds awful!” said Mrs. Dickson. “Gravel equals dirt. I won’t go.”

           “Yes, I’ll go.” Marie-Anne said to Ezra. To her mother, she said through her teeth, “Why don’t you not go?”

           Before Mrs. Dickson could answer, George said, “Mrs. Dickson, how about visiting me at my place? We have all the conveniences. My wife can tell you about the good things of country life. I can tell you stories about Ezra.”

           She titled her head and wavered it.

           “Marie-Anne is safe with him,” continued George. “He won’t hurt her.”

           “And you’ll get an objective view about him,” said Marie-Anne.

           “You’ll tell me how he treated you when alone?” At her daughter’s nod, Mother faced George. “Oh, all right. Let’s go George.”

           George just smiled as they left.

           “You say,” said Ezra, “you’d like a buggy ride? I’ll show you my property from the road. Let’s go outside.”

           He stopped in front of the barn. “Do you want to wait here by the buggy while I put the harness on Glider, my horse?”

           “Sure.” She checked out the buggy. It was a black, square buggy with large wooden wheels.

           Ezra led out of the barn a bay horse with a shiny coat that reflected the care given to it. The harness in place, all he had to do was to back the horse between the poles and hook it up.

           The man helped his hoped-for-bride in the seat before gathering up the reins and climbing in himself.

           On the road, Marie-Anne watched the horse’s rhythmic movements, then at Ezra’s callused, but skillful hands.

           “I’m enjoying this,” she said. “I feel like we’ve all the time in the world.”

           “That’s why I love my Amish upbringing. I’ve seen some of your world, and I don’t want it.”

           “Like social media?”

           “That. And idolizing singers and actors. I don’t want that for my children.”

           The buggy hit a pothole in the road.

           “Children?!” said Marie-Anne.

           Ezra kept his eyes on the horse and took a deep breath. “I have four. Joshua, 16. Nathan, 12. Caleb 9. And Mary 6.

           “Why didn’t you say that in the notice?”

           Ezra looked at her while firmly holding the reins. “I want you to meet them before you say you want no part of them.”

           With a slight correction of where the horse headed, he continued. “I’ve been alone a lot. Other than George, modern people don’t know what to make of me. Amish shun me. Modern women don’t want my lifestyle. It’s hard for me to find a wife.”

           Marie nodded her head. I’ve always felt out of place. I don’t care about the personal life of singers and actors. I’ve missed out on a lot of parties because I won’t drink and smoke. And according to my classmates, I’m too fat…Your parents probably are a big help.”

           “My parents have to consider me dead because I’m shunned.”

           “How awful.” Marie-Anne let a moment of silence pass. “Have you tried online dating?”

“George talked me into it. The women I met had expectations I don’t want to talk about.”

           Marie-Anne nodded. “I tried it too. Same result.”

           Ezra stopped the buggy on the road without traffic. He pointed at a few cows and another horse. “Those are mine. Josh helps me take care of them. I’ll take you to see my farmer’s produce stand.”

           The rhythmic swaying of the horse began again.

           “How long have you been shunned?”

           “Two and a half years.”

           Marie listened to the clip clop of Glider.

           “Do you have a washing machine and drier?”

           “No,” said Ezra. “My philosophy is not to get in debt for anything. And to avoid monthly service costs. You know, utilities. George is encouraging me to get solar panels. I may eventually buy the panels and a refrigerator, but for now, I have a generator. And if I can figure out how, I want to put skylights on the house and barn. I also want to build a root cellar to store the produce I use for myself. That would take a lot of pressure off needing a refrigerator.”

           “So. You’re not completely against modern things?”

           “No. I just want to get them when the time is right.”

           “Not even a truck or tractor?”

           “Not if I don’t have to. Horses’ fuel is grass. And they make babies to sell.” Ezra snorted. “Cars and trucks don’t do that.”

           “Do you have other surprises for me?”

           Ezra made sure Marie-Anne listened. “You need to know I will not give up my spiritual beliefs for any wife.”

           “All right. Then I need to know why you quit the Amish order.”

           Ezra sighed. “I asked too many questions. Why are Amish traditions valued more than biblical teachings? Why are prayers scripted when the psalmist poured out his heart to God? Why does it matter what color clothes a person puts on a clothesline to dry?”

           “You’re still wearing black.”

           “The clothes are still good. Why should I buy new ones?... I’ve made Jesus, Lord of my life…What do you believe?”

           The buggy jerked a little going over a bump.

           “I, uh, I haven’t really thought about it,” said Marie-Anne. “My church teaches a lot about how to be good. Not so much about Jesus.”

           “That’s what the non-Amish people at my church say… Would you like to come to my church the next Sabbath?”

           She watched the horse’s head bob up and down.

           They rode in silence.

           “I’ll ask you again. Will you go to Sabbath service with me? We all believe in Jesus and can keep our own culture.  Whatever the denomination.”

           “Yes. I’ll go…I hope my mother won’t.”

***** Sabbath service at the end of the week *****

           The people dressed in a variety of colors, including some in Amish black. Introductions were made, and the people welcomed her as one of the family.

           The service started with songs and announcements.

           The pastor was not dressed in suit and tie, but the comfortable clothes of the Amish.

           “He is shunned too as are the other excommunicated Amish here,” Ezra whispered.

           “I don’t see George.”

           “He doesn’t go here. He probably took your mother to his church.”

           “Open your Bible to Romans 10:9,” said the pastor. “‘That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.’

           “People are always telling me how they are a good person and will go to heaven because of it. Then I ask, ‘How many good works does it take to get into heaven?’ They can’t answer. Because the answer is none. Roman 3:10 says, ‘As it is written, There is none righteous, no, not one’. That means we have all sinned and will die without God.

           “Unless. We know Jesus, God’s Son. He took our punishment for unrighteousness. Our sin. All that is needed is faith to accept God’s gift of salvation.”

           Marie-Anne mulled over his words. She became alert as he talked about messengers.

           “We are messengers. Our message is the good news of salvation by Jesus Christ. We are not here to judge. We are not to look down on old order Amish and non-Amish people. The Bible is our guide. It must be believed more than our feelings.”

           Both Ezra and Marie-Anne rode home in silence in the buggy.

           “What’d you think of the sermon?” asked Ezra.

           “I think,” said Marie-Anne, “it’s the same as what my church teaches, but there is a spirit here that isn’t in my church…. I like this ride with Glider. I like your honesty.” She gave a weak smile. “I even think you’re handsome. But I have to be honest with you. Even though, I think I want to be your bride, it will take some getting used to.”

           “I understand,” said Ezra. And he put both reins in one hand, and squeezed Marie-Anne’s hand with the other.