Dear Diary,
I had never been to an Englisch funeral before today. I’ve only been to one funeral, when Uncle John died last year. But I’m only ten so maybe that’s why.
This funeral was different from Uncle John’s. There were a lot of flowers inside the church and people singing. I liked the singing even though I’m not supposed to. We don’t sing the way the Englisch do. And nobody plays instruments, but a lady at the church played a big one with tall pipes. It looked a little like a piano, but Mamm said it was an organ.
The man’s family left his coffin half open. I’m not sure why. When an Amish person dies, you can see the whole body. The man was old, but they tried to make him look young, and it didn’t look right. His fraa cried a lot. Everyone followed in cars and buggies to the cemetery. There were almost as many buggies as cars. Daed said it’s because the dead man was kind to our people and a man of the Lord. Daed had done work with him, I think. Mamm mostly says we are unequally yoked with the Englisch. That means we shouldn’t be around them too much. But sometimes it’s okay.
When we got to the Englisch cemetery, I saw big fancy headstones and even more flowers. A man like our bishop said prayers at the cemetery. He was the same man who talked at the church.
Then everyone went to the dead man’s haus to eat. It looked like a farmhouse on the outside, but not on the inside. Mamm said it was old and had been restored, but I don’t know much about Englisch houses. It was fancy inside with pretty furniture and pictures on the wall. People still cried, but not as much. Except for the dead man’s fraa. She cried a lot. She’s old too.
After everyone ate, the girls and ladies helped the old woman clean things up, then people started to leave. We were one of the last buggies still left there because not as many of the Englisch people stayed to help clean up. It was mostly our people from Montgomery, and there were some Amish families from a place I’ve never heard of. Orleans. Mamm said it is a small town forty miles away from Montgomery. I guess maybe that’s why we’ve never been there. Even a strong horse can only pull a buggy twenty miles before it needs a good long rest.
Finally, it was time to go home, and I was glad. I prayed for the sad fraa and that her husband was in heaven. But I felt like my heart hurt through it all. I don’t like to be sad, and I felt sad for everyone. Especially the dead man’s wife. Her name was Adeline. I like that name.
Mei mamm, daed, and Lydia were in the buggy when I remembered how far it was home. Daed doesn’t like to stop during trips, so I had to run back inside to go to the bathroom. I didn’t want to see the sad lady—Adeline—so when I saw her on the porch talking to people, I hurried past her.
When I got in the haus, it was quiet, and I didn’t see anyone. I walked down a hallway, and that’s when I heard music. I could only hear it a little. I still hadn’t found the bathroom, but maybe whoever was making the music could help me find it. I slowed down when I could tell the music was coming from behind a closed door. I pressed my ear against the door to hear better. I liked the sound of it and wanted to listen longer. But I needed to find the bathroom so I opened the door. This room was even more fancy than the rest of the haus, and it had a pretty red couch and matching chair and shiny tables.
I think I might have made a noise like a gasp because the boy stopped playing the piano right away and stood up. He was taller than me, but I think he was my age. There are four boys my age at our school. He looked the same size.
I’d never seen one of our people play an instrument, and the boy had played the piano like he had been doing it his whole life. Maybe music is allowed where he’s from. I knew he wasn’t from Montgomery.
But when the boy asked if I was going to tell on him, then I knew music must not be allowed where he lived either. I told him I wouldn’t tell. And I won’t. He’s the cutest boy I’ve ever seen. He has blond hair and pretty eyes.
He told me his name is Levi and that he lived in Orleans. I told him my name is Mary and that I lived in Montgomery, and I asked if he wanted to be friends. He shrugged and said we lived too far away from each other. I asked if he wanted to write me a letter. My cheeks felt hot when I asked him that. He shrugged again, then said ya. I found a piece of paper on a table by the piano, and then I found a pen. I wrote down my address. It was the first time I’d given a boy my address.
He asked me again if I was going to tell on him. I shook my head. My stomach felt funny, all swirly. Then he waved and left. He was gone before I even asked him where the bathroom was. But I knew I would check my mailbox every day.