If there were two points of conflict, if that’s the right word, between the Amish and me, one would be that I always want to show them pictures, and mostly, they don’t mind my taking them from a distance, but they don’t really want to see them.

They don’t like photographs; they see them as some evil. I love photography, apart from the Amish, and it is distancing for me that they never really want to see it; it makes them queasy. So I’ve given up on getting them to like it.

And why should they?

We have this powerful and important friendship, and neither of us wants to lose it.

The other issue is money. I consider them friends, and I never take money from friends unless it is an agreed-upon business arrangement, like selling a car.

When I bring baskets to display the food, I leave them at night so that we don’t have to talk about money. This can be uncomfortable because they will always ask me if I brought the stands or the baskets, and if I own up to it, they will try to offer me money.  And I never lie to them.

I don’t want repayment for a gift I decided to buy. These minor things can grow into bigger things in a friendship, so I wanted to figure out a better and more open way to deal with things.

At first, I insisted that they look at every photo I took.

I realized over time that they don’t like photos and have no need to see them. They may think it makes God unhappy. So I show them when they ask. Their friends keep them informed of what I’m writing on the blog, and I often bring printouts of my post.  Moise has come by to read the blog several times.

We are at a good, if not entirely easy, place.

I look for ways to help friends, and I have been successful and helping them in ways that don’t stretch or offend their faith. I bring the ice cubes on warm days so their drinks can be chilled, I sometimes surprise them with a pizza, which they like, and I sometimes bring ice cream, which they also love, along with the ice cubes.

The Amish never ask me for a thing except to re-order pie pans and donut boxes online.  They also ask me to drive them to Glens Falls Or Albany, which I do when I can.

I  have no trouble accepting payment for supplies they ask me to order online. Those are not things I’ve thought of bringing; they are things they ask me to shop for and get. I  have no trouble accepting reimbursement for that. I couldn’t afford to pay for all those pans and boxes.

Every time I drive them somewhere or bring ice cubes or ice cream or make copies of paper, someone asks me if they can pay me, and I always say no, and they always ask again.

Since the kids call me “grandpops,” I think this is a confusing situation. I’m sure Barbara and Moise would be happy if I just took payment for everything like I’m supposed to do,  but then I wouldn’t be happy.

As a compromise, I said I would accept pennies for the things I did, and my Amish jar quickly swelled with pennies and filled up. But what did that accomplish really other than the fact that I had a jar of pennies in my car rattling around?

I’m not a hired hand and don’t wish to be seen that way. That is very different than being a friend. And I’m just as pig-headed as they are.

Friends help friends, just like the Amish help the Amish.

Last week, visiting Bishop Maginn High School, I stopped at the Miller’s foodshed and bought three necklaces to give to some students. When I got to the school, I asked three girls painting in the art room if they would like one. They each got excited. They said they would love one. They thanked me profusely, and in a flash, there were a dozen girls lined up asking how they might get one.

I got a flash. Instead of pushing against each other over money, what if I proposed a barter? The Amish love to barter, they are good at it, and it is familiar to them. I wouldn’t care to say they are cheap, but they sure don’t throw money away if they can help it.

So her was my plan. I’d trade driving and ice cubes and ice cream for necklaces to bring to Bishop Maginn. The boys are eager for the Amish bracelets I wear, and many girls would love one to wear or give to their sisters, mothers, or nieces.

First, I went to the farm and went into the kitchen. Barbara, Fanny, Leena, Barbara, Delilah, and Sarah were there, but Moise and Barbara were in the barn, checking out the windows for the new house.

I told the girls the plan, and they unanimously approved. They said it was a good idea, and I was welcome to take as many necklaces (Barbara’s mother makes them) as I decided was fair. “Does this mean you don’t want any more pennies,” Sarah asked? That’s right, I said, handing her the penny jar. “Take these pennies and buy yourselves some ice cream. The penny payments are over.”

I knew the decision had to be made up the ladder.

After talking to the girls,  I drove over to the barn, found Barbara, and told her of my plant. Last night, I drove her to Albany to pick up Delilah. She left her money at home, and I bought dinner, snacks, and water, all of which she wanted to pay me for, including the driving for several hours.

She asked me how much she owed me, but I put my hands up and said I had a new proposal – necklaces for work and ice cubes and pizza and driving and snacks on the road.

I’d go once a week and collect some necklaces and bracelets; I promised not to abuse the deal. I said I figure out 3-5 necklaces a week, tops. If I wanted more, I could buy them (they range from $4 to 6$ each), in which case I would come and ask them for permission.

Barbara jumped at this; it made her a little crazy trying to keep track of what she owed me, how many pennies I was getting, and what I would accept payment for. She jumped at the simplicity of the deal and accepted it without hesitation. I knew Moise wouldn’t really care as long as everybody else was happy.

Barbara and I shook on the deal. Next Wednesday, when I return to Bishop Maginn, I’ll stop on the way and pick up some necklaces or bracelets at the Miller farm and hand them out. That will make a lot of people happy, including me.

I also threw in my next idea about connecting different parts of my world. Would it be okay to bring some high school students from Albany to Cambridge to see a genuine Amish farm? Sure, said Barbara, they love for people to visit their farm.

I’m calling it the Amish-Katz Bracelet Pact. It just might work.