My Amish friends are fixed in their ways, and they know already that I am fixed in mine. We’ve had good-natured spats about money.

I’m happy to take reimbursement for things they ask me to buy – dog food, occasional supplies, pie tins, and donut boxes.

I won’t accept payment for rides, anything done in an emergency, or for the books and cookbooks and coloring books I bring. It’s a joke between us, especially among the sisters, Delilah and Fanny.

They say, “what do we owe you?” and I say nothing, and they say, “are you sure?” once or twice, and I say yes. This is a big thing with the Amish. They pay their own way and repay debts instantly and graciously. They do not borrow money.

By now, I figure they would have given it up, but as I get to know them, I understand there is steel beneath that gentle facade. These are Willa Cather women, they are strong.

They think I should get paid for these things, and I don’t ever take money for any good deeds I do. We’re at an impasse, neither side is weakening.

So I’ve taken a new tack. Now I say, “okay, it’s two cents,” or today I said a cookbook I was bringing was “three cents.”

At first, they thought I was kidding or weren’t sure what I was doing. Delilah decided to go with it; she brought me three cents yesterday for some books.

I heard a lot of chuckles in the kitchen.

Today, Fanny just smiled and went into the other room and came back with two cents. I said I was starting an Amish Penny Jar, and when it was full, we could all go out to some antique or bric-a-brac store and buy something for the rooms in their new house.

This idea was a big hit. I’ve got five cents in my glass jar; the Amish Pennies Jar is up and running. At the rate we’re going, I’ll be able to buy something in the  early winter.