Years ago, before I was married, I used to have foreign
college students stay at my home during the summer. Several times over the years, I took some of
them to Amish Indiana. I wanted them to
see a little more of the great diversity that makes up America.
The first time it was Oliver and Avo, two young men from
Estonia. Four of us set out for a few
days of fun—Oliver, Avo, my friend Queenie, and myself. We stayed at Green Meadow Ranch, a Bed &
Breakfast at the north end of Shipshewana.
Both young men loved it there from the first moment. Avo said to me, “I feel like I breathe
differently here—I breathe deeper.” I
was amazed, because I had often thought the same thing.
After some sightseeing and lots of good food, we ended up at
the farm of my oldest and original Amish friends. It was September, and Glenn was harvesting
the corn. The green cornstalks had to be
cut down at ground level, loaded on wagons, and brought to the chopper that
turned the entire plant into “silage”—food for the cattle over the winter. Glenn put us to work right away.
The first few rows around the edge of the cornfield needed
to be cut down by hand. Glenn, Queenie,
Oliver, and Avo tossed the corn onto the flat wagon. My job was to drive the two-horse team of
Belgian draft horses forward about ten feet, then stop them while corn was
tossed onto the wagon, then forward again.
Let me say here, I did not grow up on a farm or around
animals—but I did my best. As I drove
forward, I alternately ran into the corn, the fence, the corn, and the
fence. At one point the two horses
looked back at me with an unmistakable look that said, “What is wrong with you?!” Who says animals are dumb?
But eventually we got the wagon loaded and Glenn drove it to
the silage chopper, where we threw the stalks onto the conveyor belt—see the
photo above—being careful to keep our hands clear of the chopper!
Although tractors are not allowed on Amish farms for field
work, they can be used for power. The
conveyor belt and silage chopper were run with an old tractor engine which was
connected to the chopper by belts. The
cornstalks became silage, and then we were done.
It felt good to be more than just a guest, a tourist, or a visitor. And it was a great experience for my young
Estonian friends, who were city boys back home.
Afterwards, as we enjoyed refreshments in the farmhouse, Glenn produced
an atlas and my young friends showed him where to find Estonia. Work was done, friendships were formed, and it
was an excellent tri-cultural experience for all.
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