Authors: Brooke Williams
Maria believed that anywhere people gathered to worship Christ was a place of sacred beauty. Why outsiders thought they had to decorate their churches was beyond her.
She shook her head. She would have plenty of time to dwell on such topics while she was here as well. Perhaps she would even visit one of the local churches so she could better understand. Maybe something in their service would give her the answers. She knew she would miss their daily services in the community, but she was grounded enough in her faith that she knew she could conduct her worship on her own.
Before Maria realized it, she was in the middle of Main Street, standing in front of the hotel. This hotel had a relationship with the Amish because it was in the oldest building in the city. The other hotels were newer, flashier and much less Amish. There was no such thing as a purely Amish hotel, but this hotel was the most plain place to stay. That was important to a teen on Rumspringa, especially one as timid as Maria.
She knew that staying outside the community was going to be a jolt no matter where she slept, but at least in a hotel of this nature, she wouldn’t go through as much of a culture shock.
Maria opened the glass front door and stepped inside. The entry was small and featured only one painting. Maria leaned toward it to take in the scene. It showed a man in a straw hat working in a field. It looked like home. Maria smiled.
“You must be Maria Miller,” a voice called out, startling her.
Maria jumped and spun around. “Yes,” she said quietly, trying to catch her breath from the scare. “Yes, that’s me.”
The woman behind the front desk smiled kindly at her. “We weren’t due for any other Amish folk here this week so I was pretty certain when I saw you walk in.”
Maria looked down at her clothing and tried not to compare herself to the woman. She was also wearing a dress, but it was patterned with bright flowers with buttons down the front. Maria couldn’t see the entire dress, but she was certain based on the ones she had seen in the store window that this one likely stopped above the woman’s knees.
“We have your room all set for you,” she said, leaning across the desk and pushing a single key toward Maria. “If you have any interest in meals, our café serves breakfast, lunch and dinner five days a week. It’s closed on Mondays and Fridays.”
Maria took mental note of the information and knew that it would come in handy. The room she had been given was not one equipped with any cooking elements. She would not have the supplies she needed to make anything either. She would likely take advantage of the café as much as possible. She briefly wondered what she would do when the hotel restaurant was closed, but she tabled that thought for another time. She had a few days to figure that out.
“Thank you,” Maria said, grasping the key a little too tightly in one hand and her suitcase in the other.
“You’re in the hallway to the left,” the woman said, pointing off to her side.
Maria nodded and began what seemed like the long walk to her room. She had never had a room to herself. She had grown up surrounded by siblings and other family members. In fact, Maria had never really been alone at all. As she walked down the hall, she felt more alone than she ever had in her life. She remembered what her mother said. “You are never alone,” she told her, “because God is always with you. Maria took comfort in those words as she reached the door that matched the number on her key.
She placed the key in the lock and turned it soundly. The door clicked and swung open a crack. Maria gently pushed it open further to explore the room that she would call home for the next few days. She surveyed the room and though it was supposed to be the plainest accommodations available in the area, it looked completely foreign to Maria.
There was a small narrow bed at the center of the room with a faded striped bed covering on top of it. On one side of the bed was a lamp and on the other side, an end table with a phone. Beyond the bed sat a small table and chairs and a large window. Under the window, the metal air conditioning unit hummed to life. Maria jumped again as cool air filtered through the room.
The community had electricity in some areas, but they certainly didn’t use it to cool their homes or work areas. To them, such an action was wasteful and frivolous. Maria moved across the room quickly, setting her suitcase soundly on the bed. She fiddled with the sole knob on the unit until she managed to make it click. She stood back and watched as it sputtered to a stop. She shivered. It was certainly warm outside, but the cold air had given her a chill.
Maria went back to her exploration and continued through the doorway at the back of the room. There wasn’t a window in the room and Maria couldn’t see very well. She squinted and thought she could make out a toilet, shower, and sink. Her eyes grew wide as she took in the mirror above the sink. They didn’t have any mirrors on community property. Maria had seen her reflection in plenty of windows over the years, but she didn’t fully know what she looked like. To her, it really didn’t matter. Now, however, she was faced with herself. The room was too dark for her to make much out, but simply seeing her reflection gave her a sinking feeling. She wasn’t home anymore. She was far, far from home, in fact.
Maria felt her hands begin to shake. If she was going to do this whole Rumspringa thing, she may as well do it right. She turned and felt along the wall, sure there had to be a way to turn the light on in the bathroom. At home, she would have opened some curtains or lit a candle or two. Here, electricity was king. When Maria found the switch, she snapped it on, blinking back the bright fluorescent light as it flooded the room. She slowly turned back to the mirror and stared at herself.
Maria smoothed her hair back under her bonnet, an action she did often without thinking and without the help of a mirror. Her hair was a pleasant color that crossed honey with shades of brown to create a glowing effect around her face. Though she could not see much of her hair around her bonnet, enough showed to give her an idea of its appearance. Maria’s bright brown eyes blinked back at her. Her nose was narrow and straight and her chin had a definite point to it. She frowned. This was why they didn’t have any mirrors within the community. People got too caught up in their appearances. Maria was beautiful because of who she was, not because of how she looked.
She snapped the bathroom light back off. She would have to find something to cover the mirror. She didn’t want any distractions while she was away from the community. She was going to experience the outside world, but she also did not want to fall away from the ways of her people.
As Maria left the bathroom, she decided to unpack her few belongings and settle in. She sat on the bed next to her suitcase and nearly jumped to the other side of the room when a shrill ring sounded behind her.
Maria gasped and turned toward the noise, one hand firmly placed against her chest. The phone on the table next to the bed was blinking a bright red light and ringing as if it had never made a sound more urgent. Maria wasn’t sure what to do, but she wanted the noise to stop. She quickly moved around the bed and picked the phone up from its cradle.
She then held it up to her ear, but she remained silent.
“Miss Miller?” the voice spoke. “Miss Miller are you there?”
Maria nodded, but realized the woman on the other end couldn’t see her. “Yes, I’m here,” she said, still trying to catch her breath.
“I’m sorry, that must have startled you,” the woman said apologetically. Maria remained still and allowed the woman to go on. “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your room and let you know that I have a list of church services and times at the front desk in case you have any interest.”
Of course Maria had interest and she appreciated the gesture, but she would have preferred the woman to tell her that before she got to her room. It would have been even better had she knocked and asked in person. This phone thing was a total shock and not at all within her comfort zone.
“The room is fine,” she spoke curtly. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem, have a nice day,” the woman said as Maria was met with a loud tone in her ear.
She pulled the phone back from her face and placed it quickly back in the cradle as if it might bite her if she held it any longer. She took a few backward steps away from the phone. The outside world was even more than she had imagined. Somewhere deep inside she knew there would be mirrors, phones, strange clothing, and all of the other things she had heard so much about. But now, experiencing it all for herself for the very first time, Maria was overwhelmed.
She sat back on the bed next to her suitcase, her unpacking suddenly forgotten. She needed to get out of the small room. She wanted to be somewhere more familiar and comforting. She wanted to forget that she had days ahead of her before she could get back to her family and simply immerse herself in something that would remind her of her purpose. She needed to talk to someone. Anyone. Being alone wasn’t helping her situation.
Maria stood up, grabbed her key, and left her room. It wouldn’t be hard to find Coopers. She had heard enough about the man over the years that she felt like she almost knew him, though they had never met. He would have the right advice for her. He would make her feel like someone was on her side. It was just what she needed to push herself through the rest of the day. Her first day on Rumspringa.
It took Maria only a few short minutes to walk a block up the street and cross to the other side. She didn’t spend any time looking into shop windows to get a taste for the town. She had seen quite a bit already and she wanted to pace herself. She was overwhelmed and she hadn’t even been on her own a full hour yet.
The sign for Cooper’s store was big and bold, but it almost looked as it if had been written by hand. Maria felt more at home already as she walked through the front door and scanned the few aisles to see if she could find Cooper himself. She had never met the man, but she was sure she’d know him on sight after all the stories she heard over the years.
The store itself was very neat and plain and Maria liked that there was fresh produce right up front. The items in the store seemed to be very basic, which is why the Amish liked to shop there so much. There were not so many processed items to tempt them into avoiding the work themselves. In the Amish community, every food was as it had been presented from God or it was made by hand. It was hard work, but it was their way of life and they knew no different.
There was only one other customer in the store and since it was a woman, Maria knew that Cooper had to be around. As she walked up the first aisle near the register desk situated at the front, she heard a booming voice. “I found what you need Mrs. McGillicuty.” Maria swung around to face the back of the store and the man she knew had to be Cooper.
He wore a wide brimmed hat, much as the men in the fields within her community wore. His soft, round face was graced with a beard as white as snow and his big eyes smiled continuously. Cooper approached the other woman in the store and showed her a brochure of goods. She must have been looking for something specific that he could order. Maria browsed a few aisles and saw familiar labels that often traveled from the store to their community when someone made a run for supplies. They always bought the largest sizes so they did not have to go into town very often.
When Cooper was done speaking with the other woman in the store, she made her way to the exit and Cooper turned his smiling eyes on Maria.
“Well, hello!” he greeted as he rushed down the aisle to look Maria in the eye. “Tell me your name.”
“Maria,” she spoke softly, “Maria Miller.”
“Well, Miss Miller, what can I do for you today?” Cooper placed his warm hand on her shoulder and Maria felt some of the weight in her heart lift. Her parents told her that Cooper was there to help with anything at all and she was going to take them at their word.