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Old Order Mennonite Memoirs

Dear September,

It doesn't seem possible that you are ready to leave us. We grew so accustomed to your golden sunshine, we thought you would just stay. But your gentle evenings grow ever darker and last week you handed the summer reins over to autumn.

Overflowing abundance was in your days. There were weddings and windows and water, the latter mostly coming from our wells and only an inch from your skies. The Living Water was in our Bibles and in our church in the wild wood. The weddings were dreams-come-true for the young. The windows went open and shut to accommodate your fluctuating tempera...


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