Read Landchester Amish Love: Sarah (Amish Romance) (Landchester Amish Love Series Book 1) Online
Authors: Esther Weaver
Landchester Amish Love: Sarah (Amish Romance) (Landchester Amish Love Series Book 1)
Sarah
(Landchester Amish Love Series, Book 1)
Esther Weaver
Copyright © Esther Weaver, 2016-. The right of Esther Weaver to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) 2000
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
“If only I had more options,” Sarah said to herself. She was alone so she could speak out loud. Looking at the wreaths she had made, she was feeling disappointed at how plain they looked. It was a constant source of agitation for her. The designs in her head were bright and multi-colored. When she thought no one was looking, she would look through the lifestyle and design magazines if she was in an
Englisch
store, wishing she had the opportunity to have free reign on her creations.
But being Amish meant Sarah Moore had to stay true to her culture. She really wanted to make dolls, pretty dolls that she had seen in the
Englisch
shops. That was her secret-Amish dolls were plain.
For as long as she could remember, Sarah was uncomfortable in her own skin.
Gott
had given her special handicraft skills and when she discovered what she could make, it opened a new world for her. However, that was short-lived when she was made aware of her limitations. Not
her
limitations per se, Sarah had none when it came to creating objects, but it was the Amish way of not taking pride or being vain.
She made wreaths, dolls, and flowers which were proving popular with the
Englischers
. Sarah was an unhappy girl. She longed to be free to express herself through her dolls. Whenever she was in town, she would notice how the
Englisch
girls dressed and how they did they hair and makeup. Sarah felt very plain in comparison. Her dolls became her way of making the ideal woman, a reflection of how she felt a young woman should look.
So at night-time, when the household was fast asleep, Sarah would quietly make her way out to the barn. She lived with her widowed mother and
schweschder
. Up in the loft of the barn, Sarah had made a secret hiding place for her doll-making supplies. She had started creating faces on her dolls but couldn’t quite get it right. She had brought a lamp with her but trying to sew by lamp was tiring. It required much more concentration that sewing during the day, but it was Sarah’s alone time, to create what she wanted to make.
She smiled as she opened her box that contained her tools and sewing supplies. She had unpicked the face she had made of the doll last night, undoing all of her work. There was something off about it but tonight she seemed to work more deftly. Her mind focused on beauty. After all,
Gott
created beauty so why was it wrong to appreciate it?
As Sarah looked at the face she was creating, she took pride in what she saw.
“If only I looked as beautiful as you,” She spoke to the doll. While Sarah herself was very slim with long black hair, she didn’t like the way she looked. Yet to others, she was beautiful with petite facial features that suited her. Her piercing blue eyes at odds against her black hair was what made Sarah beautiful, but she only saw her flaws when she caught a reflection of herself in the window or shop mirrors.
She began to work on the body of the doll, creating a waist and the perfect form as she saw it. Not hidden under a nondescript dress. The arms and legs in proportion. Her new dolls would have blond hair and blue eyes. Despite stabbing herself with her needle a few times, Sarah continued working and then her doll was complete. The scraps of material she picked up came in very handy for doll clothes and she looked at the lovely colors and how well they worked together.
“
Jah,
you are perfect.” She was gleeful and started on her next doll. Her thoughts drifted into how plain Amish life was, the clothes, the girls, the food. There was no individuality. Everyone looked the same. But her dolls would be different except for their faces. Sarah had created the ideal face in her own mind. But who would see these? It didn’t matter, tonight she had created something beautiful. If only she could recreate this beauty in herself.
Poor Sarah always had difficulty in expressing herself. She stayed in the background and let her friends be loud. Even then, she wasn’t quite sure of her friends. At times she felt she just made up the numbers and for them, it was good to have an ugly duckling in the group, they would feel prettier than Sarah. This was all in Sarah’s head.
She lacked confidence and because she was uncomfortable, she imagined others being uncomfortable around. Now it was becoming a problem. She was getting older and with no sign of a
menner
on the horizon, she was in danger of being unmarried. Rather than seeing her lack of confidence as something to improve, Sarah focused on her creations. They could speak for her. Even though she had always been quiet, she was becoming even more withdrawn, disappearing into a world of her own.
She knew she was coming to a crossroads. If her dolls with faces were discovered, she was in danger of being asked to leave the community. Sarah would not be able to live the Amish way and create the beauty as she saw it in her dolls.
Suddenly there was a strange sound. Rather than asking if someone was there, she turned off the lamp and hid. She had set up her corner in such a way that no one would notice the lamp being on. But she didn’t hear anymore and as she raised her head to look around the barn, she realized it was just the wind. But she was too spooked to continue sewing. The moment had passed. She packed her sewing supplies up and put her doll gently on top. She couldn’t help but smile as she looked at what she had created. She would sleep well tonight. The face was perfect and then she could make another, then another.
Making sure her secret was secure, Sarah made her way back to the
haus
and back into bed.
“Sarah, Sarah, it’s time to get up,” her mother was knocking on the door.
“
Jah
,
Maemm
. I’m getting up now.” Sarah called out. She was tired but got up. There were no lie-ins in this
haus
. It was all hands on deck. With no
mann
about the
haus
and Sarah’s
bruder
, Caleb, married and living in his own home, all the work inside and outside the
haus
was left to the Moore women. Caleb helped when he could but he had his own home to look after.
“This smells
gut
,
Maemm
.” And it did. Sarah’s mother, Laura, made breakfast for the girls, Sarah and Ruth, every morning. Then they would begin their chores.
“Sarah, today is laundry day and it’s your turn. Ruth, help your
schweschder
in the vegetable garden later. The weeds look like they’re everywhere.”
“
Jah
,
Maemm
,” the girls answered in unison.
Sarah hated doing the laundry. She much preferred working in the garden. Her hands and arms were always sore after laundry, using the hand crank washer and then the hand wringer. It made delicate doll work more difficult the evening after laundry and she hated how wrinkly her hands got. They would look old and withered, a further reminder of her getting older and not having a
menner
and
kinder
of her own. But she didn’t complain. There was no point.
As Sarah got the water and soap ready for the clothes washing, yet again she was reminded of the plainness of all things Amish. Their dresses and aprons and
kapps
all the same color. It was boring and mundane. Life was just routine. The same thing every day, day in, day out. They ate the same foods at the same times every day. Sarah was tired of it. She knew she should focus on what she was doing but her mind began to drift back to her doll and its perfect creation.
If only she could find a way to sell them.
“I wonder would I have to leave the community or should I wait until I’m caught.” Either prospect was a scary proposition. What would her mother do without first of all?
“Sarah, what are you doing? You’ve gone all dreamy.” Ruth had been watching her
schweschder
. She knew how Sarah has been struggling but Sarah wouldn’t talk to her about what bothered her.
“Ruth,
jah,
I was daydreaming. Come and help me.” Sarah needed the distraction. It was annoying her having to think plus it was giving her a headache. Why couldn’t life be easier? She wondered to herself.
The two
schweschder
s moved the heavy, wet clothes to the hand wringer and took turns at the hand crank. It was tedious work. They sang as they worked to take away the monotony.
“
Schweschder,
why don’t you start weeding? I’ll finish this and hang out the clothes.” Ruth liked being out in the fresh air. She knew Sarah preferred working in the garden in any case.
“
Danke
, Ruth. I’ll do that. See you soon.” Sarah skipped to the garden. There was something about having her hands in the earth that seemed to ground her. As she pulled weeds, she found her mind was imaging the next doll she would make. She longed to have the freedom to truly express herself. While she was afraid to admit it, Sarah longed to be noticed for her creations. But if they stayed hidden in a barn, how could she achieve the recognition she desired? She prayed that
Gott
would help her. In the meantime, she had a big vegetable garden to de-weed.
“Ruth, Sarah, lunchtime,” Laura Moore called out to her
dochtah
s. She had made a chicken pot pie. The girls were hungry after their morning’s work. There wasn’t much conversation between the three Moore women. Each was lost in their own thoughts.
Sarah’s thoughts constantly focused on how to get her dolls with faces into a shop. She couldn’t supply them to the local Amish store which sold her dolls without faces. It wouldn’t be allowed. She’d have to look for a craft shop elsewhere. One that wasn’t Amish. But would she be brave enough to do such a thing? To go against tradition and the beliefs she was brought up with. She wasn’t sure how but she knew her face dolls needed to be seen and admired.
Sarah returned to the garden while Ruth helped their mother wash up. She took the same focus she had with making decorative objects to weeding the garden. She was consistent and methodical, clearing section by section and giving herself points to work to before stopping to stretch. Sarah felt weeding kept her fingers nimble. Although she hated the way the earth stuck under her fingernails no matter how short they were.
It was a meditative exercise for Sarah, being in the garden. She could see the worms and spiders and greeted them knowing they were serving a purpose.
Gott
had created them for a reason, so why was her creative skill being held back due to the other people’s thinking on what was right or wrong? Surely acknowledging
Gott’s
creativeness was not a sin so why should her own creativity be stifled? As Sarah took a break, she looked up at the sky. The beautiful blue sky and the shining sun that warmed her face. She closed her eyes. It was a wonderful feeling. For this moment, she was free.
Then she heard her mother calling to her and the moment passed. She had just another little bit to do for today’s work and then she’d go home. She waved at her mother and shouted back that she wanted to finish this section. She saw her mother nod. And Sarah returned to her work. She had more work to do in the evening. She had her Amish dolls to finish off and get to the store. Sometimes her mother and Ruth helped her but Sarah was never quite satisfied with their work. She was a perfectionist. And anything less than perfection would not do. Sarah was her own worst enemy. She put such pressure on herself, all of the time and as was so often the case, she failed to live up to her own expectations.