One of my favorite stories is one that happened to my friend Geraldine’s mother.


Ann was Amish and lived with her mom and dad and sisters and brothers in Leola, a little town in Lancaster County. She was dating a young guy named John, who lived about three and ½ miles from her house.


Ann was frustrated, because John did not want to come see her on week nights. He was a farmer, and he thought coming once a week on Saturday night was enough. Ann was a little jealous, too, because her sister Rachel’s boyfriend was not quite so old-fashioned and would occasionally come see Rachel during the week.


Impulsively, Ann decided she had enough. If John didn’t like her enough to come more often, what was the point of dating him? She would break up with him.


Of course, she couldn’t call him, because she didn’t have a telephone. Instead, she wrote him a letter and told him it was over. She wrote the letter in the beginning of the week so that he would get it before Saturday night.


Her sister Rachel saw her putting the letter in the mailbox, and was quite disappointed. She could not figure out why Ann would want to throw away a great guy like John. Besides, he was laid-back and easygoing and complemented Ann’s energetic, outspoken personality perfectly. Secretly, Rachel went to the mailbox and took out the letter before the mailman could take it away.


Saturday night came, and Ann was still wearing her everyday dress and working around the house as she did on any week night. “Why aren’t you getting ready for your date with John?” Rachel asked slyly.


“He’s not coming,” Ann replied saucily. “I sent him a letter and broke up with him.”


“Get on a nice dress,” her sister commanded. “He is coming. He never got that letter. I took it out of the mailbox.” 


When John came that evening, he never suspected the drama that had taken place. They must have had a great time, because eventually they got married. They lived happily ever after and today have eight children and forty grandchildren.