“A strong sense of community regulates the rhythms of Amish life. Face-to-face conversation in homes, on lawns, and in shops and barns provides the social glue of Amish society…Amish life thrives in personal relationships that mix together neighborhood, family, church, work, and leisure.”  – Simply Amish, Donald B. Kraybill.

The dogs started barking around 7 p.m. more loudly than usual; I looked out the window to see if an Amish Cart was going by. “They’re here at the back door,” yelled Maria, and I rushed to get some shoes.

Moise was there, no horse.

He and two others had walked down the farm from his farm up the road with his son John and John’s brother-in-law Eli, who came from way upstate near the Canadian Border, where Moise used to live.

Moise was coming to ask me if I could drive Eli and his family to the bus stop in Glens Falls Monday afternoon; I said sure, my afternoon Monday is free, the only afternoon next week that I am free.

Eli has been visiting this weekend and is coming back in the summer to help Moise build a horse barn. It will take them about two weeks, he said.

I am always glad to see Moise.

I find myself wanting to give my Amish neighbors rides to bus and train stations once in a while; I’m not used to driving other people around, but I get to talk to them and learn from them, and also it adds to the sense of meaning and purpose I have in my life.

I always learn something to bring home, to think about, and talk about.

This driving the Amish is humbling and meaningful to me, another way of doing good, another small act of great kindness. The older I get, the more determined I am to have meaning and purpose, to never slip into the fog.

I will never be a part of the Amish community, nor would they have me, yet there is a sense of community between me and this family.

Moise, as usual, was fascinated by our farm. He and John – they are both millers – made a beeline to my new raised garden bed.

Moise’s brother-in-law is making them on the other side of town – good ones – for $90. Mine cost twice that; I bought it online before I knew Moise or the other families.

John wanted to look at all of the details to see how it was built.

I know where to go now if I need anything made of wood.

Eli has two children and his wife; I’ll bring them to the Glens Falls Bus Station, about an hour away.

I think by now, Moise has asked me what every single thing on the farm cost – the car, the sheep, the driveway, the gravel, the donkeys.

He shocked me by asking if my donkey Simon was still alive. He hoped he could meet him.  I forgot that I gave him a copy of Saving Simon, one of my favorite books.

He liked it, he asked me about the farmer who was starving Simon, and about the young boy who saved him. I was touched that he read it. I’m not sure too many up here where I live has read that book or any of mine. I don’t talk about my books much, I think I want to be in the now.

I went into the house and got a copy of Geeks for John, who is in his early 20’s and gave Moise a copy of A Good Dog; I thought he would relate to the story of Orson.

I thought John might appreciate the story of Jesse Dailey, a poor kid from an impoverished Idaho town who made his way to Chicago and won a full scholarship to the University of Chicago. I’m not sure why; I just had a feeling he might relate to him.

Early in the day, I brought three Amish coloring books and some color pencils to the children at Moise’s farm. They were excited to get them; Moise thanked me for bringing them.

Moise and I continue to get easier with one another. We trust each other and talk openly. He was telling Eli how my car gets nearly 50 miles to a gallon.

I couldn’t resist. “Yeah, Moise, but that was before I had Amish neighbors to drive all over the state.”

Moise cracked up, and so did John and Eli. They are quick to laugh at themselves.

As it got dark, the three began the walk up the road to Moise’s farm. I walked them to the road. I’m really not sure yet why I am so comfortable with these people, more than I am with most people in my own family.

Life is full of crisis and mystery, which is often my answer to the unknowable.