Old Order Mennonite Memoirs

Spring took me by the throat on the last Saturday in March. I’ve heard of spring fever, but this was even more violent. The outdoors was invitingly warm with sunshine, but I had to endure my weekly cleaning first. Subdued and songless, I hurried to finish before lunch so I could escape as soon as my dishes were washed.

The tree swallows had just returned from the south and greeted me with their gentle twitters when I stepped outside with only a sweater. The south wind was soft even when the sun wasn’t shining, but it was strong. It whipped at my dress as I tilled a bit of soil beside m...