My Life with the Amish

A chance reading of a newspaper article turned into a life-changing experience for Bob Brawley, as he hitched his wagon for a time to a community of Old Order Amish in Missouri. He gained skills, but he also learned values that continue to support his life. He shares his perspective in this “From Our Readers” essay.

There are moments in life when a single instant can change your entire path. That pivotal moment occurred while I was flipping through the pages of the Sunday edition of the Oklahoman newspaper, seeking a distraction from my troubled life, as my marriage was on the brink of divorce.

I came across a photograph of an overturned horsedrawn buggy on a rural Missouri highway, its Amish occupants standing stoically nearby. The accompanying article explored the Amish lifestyle, culture, and customs.

Intrigued, I asked my wife, Shelly, if she would like to visit the Amish community, hoping to learn more about them. With her agreement, our family set off for southwestern Missouri that weekend, a four-hour drive.

By chance, we met Jacob and Katie Beiler, an Amish family who welcomed us into their home and farm. That weekend turned into a whirlwind of learning about Amish persecution, their migration to America, traditions, beliefs, plain dress, and farming methods.

We immersed ourselves in the Amish community, embracing their dedication to togetherness and traditional farming practices, such as using horsedrawn plows and handsewn, hand-harvested crops. Their simple and unadorned lifestyle connected us to something greater. We learned about the Amish daily routines, their reliance on manual labor, and the value they place on traditional skills.

I began to consider the possibility of my family living in the Amish settlement and asked Jacob if it would be feasible. He explained that, as the head of the family, I would need a sponsor and kindly offered to be my sponsor, filling Shelly and me with hope and anticipation.

Shelly and I returned to Oklahoma City that Sunday evening, feeling a sense of loss for the new friends we had made and yearning for the simplicity and peace we had experienced in the Amish community. After weeks of prayer and reflection, we concluded that God’s plan for us was to embrace a simpler and more unconventional lifestyle.

We asked Jacob to help us find a house within the Amish community. He discovered a vacant, dilapidated, furnished two-story farmhouse on six acres of land. The owner – a friend of Jacob’s who was not Amish – agreed to rent it to us for $50 a month. Excited and feeling this was a blessing from God, we packed our belongings and moved into the house.

I sold my car, bought a buggy and a horse from an Amish carpenter, and joined an Amish carpentry crew. Shelly and I raised chickens and pigs and planted a garden. I learned how to milk a cow – an experience forever etched in my memory.

We replaced our store-bought clothes with handmade Amish attire; attended Amish weddings and barn raisings; and gradually integrated into the Amish community, feeling a sense of belonging and acceptance we had never experienced.

Shelly struggled with depression, longing for her family and friends, who lived in California. I remained hopeful that things would improve over time. Unfortunately, tensions rose when Shelly’s brother, who had moved with us to the Amish community, became involved in a forbidden love triangle with two young Amish maidens, a violation of the community’s rules, causing significant unrest. Shelly, feeling isolated and homesick, was deeply affected by this development. Her discontent with the Amish life ultimately reached a breaking point.

Shelly became pregnant, experienced life-threatening complications, and took a bus to Oklahoma City to see her family doctor. Later, she wrote and said her doctor advised her not to return to the Amish community. I chose to stay with the Amish, praying Shelly would return when her health improved.

One morning, disaster struck as I hitched my horse to the buggy. A feral cat darted out of the barn and under my buggy, causing my prize horse to bolt. He ran out of the yard and onto the dirt road, where the buggy crashed and shattered into pieces, tragically injuring and ultimately killing him.

My world crumbled with the loss of my horse and buggy, a symbol of my new life. Overwhelmed by grief and longing for my family, I bid farewell to my Amish brethren, promising to return.

I hitchhiked to Oklahoma City, got a job on a cattle ranch, and kept in touch with my Jacob and Katie, hoping one day we would return to the Amish community. Shelly gave birth to a healthy daughter and later had a son.

Apart from the Old Order Amish family

Dissatisfied with life in Oklahoma, we moved to the West Coast to be close to friends and family. I enrolled in college classes and worked two part-time jobs. Despite our best efforts, reconciliation proved to be elusive, ultimately leading to our divorce. Our journey – from the simplicity of the Amish settlement to the complexities of a struggling marriage – was filled with heartache, faith, and acceptance, taking us from the modern world into the timeless culture of the Missouri Old Order Amish community, where we learned the values of simplicity, community, and faith.

I often reflect on my past and think about how different my life could have been. The sacrifices, cultural changes, transformation, and personal growth I experienced have had a profound impact on me, reminding me of how innocent and simple life was, and how protected and safe I felt.

I remember the day Jacob and Katie reprimanded me for playing a record on my turntable after I had been advised not to use electricity in the farmhouse. I laugh when I think about the afternoon when Shelby’s brother, who had moved to the Amish community with us, played a prank on me by trapping me in a porta-potty and flipping it over while I was inside.

I smile as I remember racing a fellow Amish man in our horse-drawn buggies down a bumpy dirt lane, only to be scolded by the bishop for my recklessness. I also recall a night when I thought I was rescuing David from being struck by lightning during a violent thunderstorm, only to discover it was all a prank. I take great pride in having had the opportunity to help raise a barn for a newly married Amish couple.

I wonder if I could give up my worldly possessions to return to the simple, idyllic lifestyle of the Missouri Old Order Amish. Could I adapt to a world where black-clad, bearded men plow their fields with teams of draft horses, and bonneted women hang handwashed clothes on clotheslines to dry?

Could I embrace a life where families come together for barn raisings, and teenage boys in horse-drawn buggies attend Sunday singings to choose their brides?

When I read about another senseless killing and witness the lawlessness depicted on television and in the newspapers, I find myself questioning whether the Amish might have solutions to many of the problems we face today – and perhaps hold the key to true happiness. Amish children learn early the importance of helping with family chores, respecting their elders, working hard, and saving money in preparation for marriage. Amish families share meals, pray together, and work side by side toward common goals.

In today’s fast-paced world, many parents work outside the home, making family meals, once a central part of life, increasingly rare. Children spend countless hours watching television, texting, and hanging out in malls, often using money that their stressed and overworked parents give them to fill their free time.

I joined the Missouri Old Order Amish community to create a better life for my family and myself. In the process, I fell in love with their people and way of life: their dedication to God, their reverence for family, and their commitment to humility, simplicity, and hard work.

I cherish the bonds I formed with my Amish brethren and will always hold dear the time I spent with them. Our paths intersected, and I became part of their story just as they became part of mine, leaving an immeasurable mark on my life, heart, and soul. And even though our paths have diverged, the echoes of their kindness, humility, and wisdom remain with me, reminding me that hearts can embrace different worlds.

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