Sunday Night Drive

About every six weeks I like to take a drive out into Amish country, over in the next township. I have a routine for these drives. I go west on Vermontville Highway, and stop at Jones Country Store (non-Amish). Here I buy a bag of "funyums" and a diet Vernors. I chat for a few minutes with the lady who owns the store. She is always dressed in layers, and looks just this side of bag ladydom, but she is quite interesting.

Last night I was wearing a tee-shirt with lighthouses on it. "I like that," the proprietess said. "Reminds me of that song at church, do you know it?"

"I'm not sure," I say.

She closes her eyes, clears her throat, and begins to sing the chorus of it. She has a lovely voice, and I tell her so. "If you wait a minute, I'll get the words and sing the whole thing for you."

Well, I had the time, and so I waited inside the door and sipped my pop. She came back into the store and commenced to sing. Another customer came in, returning bottles. He then got his beer and waited patiently at the counter while she finished.

It was a lovely song.



The evening was kind of gray and damp. There were plenty of horse tracks on the road. The little town of Chester has a blacksmith (non-Amish) and he was busy. As I came down Kinsel, I could see that the Sunday gathering must have been held at the place above. I turned to drive past the house. The menfolk were walking toward the barn. Several waved. I think they know folks are curious.