Story # 1 Chapter 3

This is Chapter 3 in our first "How We Met" story written by my friend, Tabitha.........

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We wrote each other every week; fairly long letters about our everyday lives, our likes and dislikes and preferences, our families, our work. We wrote about God and the things we had learned in our spiritual lives, and asked each other lots of questions. Letter by letter, we began sharing our lives, and bit by bit, our hearts.
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In October, a Canadian boy was marrying a girl from Ohio. And, since they had met at Faith Mission Home, dozens of people were heading from Virginia to Ohio for the wedding, and scores if not hundreds of people were coming from Canada to Ohio. All converging in Holmes County. Peter was coming too.
I atttended the wedding alone, and who should I see when I walked into the foyer but Peter. I bravely went over and talked to him, friendly and casual in case anyone was watching. Remember, this was still a "secret."

After the reception, Peter introduced me to his parents and his sister. Oddly enough, I hadn't been expecting this ordeal. Immediately afterwards I fled to the restroom and was mortified to see that my face was as brilliantly red as it felt. Just as I was bemoaning this embarrassment to a friend in the know, Peter's mom walked in! She smiled kindly and didn't act like she had seen or heard anything odd, though I knew she had to have caught on.

After the wedding, Peter and I went out for coffee, even though it was definitely before my New Year's deadline. We had a nice time. He came in and talked to my family for a bit and they seemed to approve. They had learned not to tease or push me -- I didn't like it. So they were cautiously positive.

But the secret wasn't secret any more. The news of our relationship did make quite a sensation, especially to those who knew us both. One of the girls from Peter's church who worked with me at FMH was excited about us as a couple, but, "where will they go to CHURCH?" It was certainly a conundrum. Another mutual friend just couldn't get over the fact that the two of us were actually dating, so to speak. But he was pleased. So far, no one was upset about it, at least!

When the FMHers met at our house on Monday to travel home together in the big maxi van, they were also happy and excited. And that was one of the hard moments for me. I still wasn't head-over-heels in love. In fact, I felt cautious, reserved, and in trial mode with this relationship. I tried not to let on how tentative I felt about it all, while not pretending to be too excited either.
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But soon after that, we started calling. The first time Peter called, we talked for an hour. And I didn't do all the talking, either! I found myself looking forward to his phone calls.
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We had a hard time in November. I was at a point where the relationship was more work than pleasure, and I admitted this to Peter one evening. The next time we talked, he admitted this had given him a hard weekend. But I wasn't ready to break up, and neither was he. Our willingness to slog through this tough time (and several others) is what saved our relationship. It could so easily have ended right there, if even one of us hadn't been willing to keep trying. But we knew this relationship had a chance, and if we just stuck it out . . .
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As I grew to know Peter, I realized that every letter and phone call and revelation from him was a gift, just for me. He was entrusting me with himself, and I knew he didn't do that lightly. This was a precious thing he was doing, risking this kind of sharing with me in spite of my caution. And I knew, if we ever did get married, Peter would be more "mine" than an outgoing, transparent kind of man would ever be. This was the flip-side of his quietness -- it wasn't all a negative. Not at all.

At Christmas, I went home to spend the holiday with my family. And guess who else came for Christmas?

Indeed he did! He showed up with a lovely red rose (I still love single red roses). We had our first date at Olive Garden. He spent Christmas day with us, and it was-- good! Really. My fears had been unfounded once more.

My attraction to Peter was growing. I was becoming all right with the idea of falling in love with him.

He started visiting me at FMH. Once his best friend and his best friend's girlfriend came too, and the four of us drove over to another of their friends who was married and living about an hour from Mission Home. We had a hilarious time over Sunday dinner while the men reminisced about their school days, and we laughed until we almost cried.

I visited him in Canada in February, and was enthralled with the beautiful landscape, snow-covered under brilliant blue skies, bare trees lining the straight, white roads. He arranged a sleigh ride for me with his family, and an Amish neighbor took us on an sleigh wagon ride behind a team of horses, in the moonlit woods and fields of the farming country Peter grew up in.

That weekend I fell the rest of the way in love with Peter. After our date that weekend, I spent most of the night lying awake and reliving the evening, savoring every word and look and nuance and implication.
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Our relationship after that was more "normal," if there is such a thing. We did have several more rough spots after that, the worst of those just before I left FMH for home in summer 2001. But by the grace of God and the patience of Peter we came through stronger in our love. We had some high spots too, the ones that make a relationship fun and rewarding, and that do their own bright work in strengthening love.

In September of 2001, Peter proposed and I said yes! We made plans for a spring wedding, slogged through all the paperwork required for him to cross the border to get married, and enjoyed being engaged! On a rainy April morning in 2002, we spoke our vows in front of hundreds of our loved ones. Twelve years later, we have two precious daughters, ages 9 and 7; a happy home; and a bouncy puppy. Today, we love and understand each other more deeply and fully than ever before.

Ours is a story of love grown through time and patience. For us, perhaps unlike other couples, the romance came after the work, not before. But we were willing to work for it because of our confidence that God was leading us this way. Today, it still takes work and romance to keep our marriage happy. We are in this for life, and God has given us far more than we could ask for.

Thank God He gave Peter the courage to send that first letter, nearly 14 years ago! Thank God He gave me the courage to say yes!

For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7


Thank you so much for sharing, Tabitha!!! May God Bless you and Peter with many more years of work and romance and a happy marriage!!!!

Story # 1 Chapter 2

This is Chapter 2 in our first story of "How We Met" written by my friend, Tabitha..........

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To be honest, my first, inner response was "Oh, no. I'll have to say 'no'." I just couldn't imagine it. He was very nice, but so quiet. He was from Canada. He was from "that" church. He didn't seem like my type, if you'll pardon the cliche.

I don't remember much of the next few hours, except for waiting until Dennis Eash came back to work for the afternoon. Dennis was the administrator at the Home, and he was the go-to man for all the staff. The two of us also worked together in making out the weekly staff schedule, and he and his wife Wanda were my good friends. They knew me quite well, the good and the bad, and were always gracious and forthright. I always knew where I stood with Dennis.

Finding Dennis in his office, I asked if we could talk. I sat down in one of the chairs facing his desk, and said, "You'll never believe who I got a letter from today." He waited. "Peter Schmidt," I announced.

I don't know what I expected, but not what I got. He NODDED. "I know," he said.

!

"Peter wrote me about you a while back," Dennis explained, quite calmly. "He asked about you, and if you were dating anyone." (Well. That would have been awkward.)

"What did you tell him?"

"I said you were a nice girl and we think a lot of you." (I honestly can't remember what he said he told Peter -- but they were good things.)

"Did you tell him the bad things about me?" I asked, almost hopefully.

"No." Dennis chuckled. "I thought he could find those out for himself."
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My sister in Pennsylvania had a baby that same day, and my mom was traveling from Ohio to see her. I arranged to travel with another staff girl to meet Mom in Harrisburg, then travel with her to my sister's place. I told Mom then, and of course my sister. Peter had already asked (and received) Dad's permission to write me, but Mom and Dad hadn't breathed a word.

The next week I talked to Wanda Eash, and after talking with her I felt my heart beginning to change. Talking to Dad made a big difference too. We hadn't been close over the years and I seldom had a deeply personal conversation with him, though I had a high respect for him and loved him a lot. But one night we talked about me and Peter, and he was so encouraging. He's quiet, and my mom isn't so much, so I asked him about that. "Don't you mind that Mom talks more than you do?" I wondered. "No," he replied, "it's kind of nice!" That made me laugh, but it also helped me realize that my dread of being like Check and Sussann was perhaps unfounded. Check and Sussann were our elderly Amish neighbors while I was growing up, and they were a study in opposites. Check was shy, awkward, quiet, smiling. Susann was voluble, voluble, voluble. They were dear people and wonderful neighbors, but I didn't want to be like them.

And our names! Peter! No one I knew was named Peter. And I wasn't sure about his last name, either. Would I really have to give up Beachy for Schmidt? (I meant, of course, if I were to say yes and if we were to get married.) And, too, Peter the apostle was the one who raised Tabitha the seamstress from the dead in Acts 9. I didn't think of this right then, but it was certainly brought to my attention later. Really. What were the odds?

I talked to a few more friends that week, and God kept on changing my heart through their wise words. Many of the things holding me back were unfounded fears.
In mid-September I wrote Peter back and told him "yes!"

But! I had some conditions. (Nervy.) I just wanted to write at first. No phone calls or dates, yet. Maybe after Christmas we could actually start dating. The idea of going out with a-- well, not a stranger, but, well, anyway, there you are. And Christmas? Peter coming to our house for Christmas? during my precious vacation time with my beloved family? Noooo.

But we could write letters. And it was still a secret. Except, of course, to the people who knew.

Story # 1 Chapter 1

I chose my "story tellers" quite randomly.......Tabitha is a friend of mine from my days of working at Faith Mission Home. I really knew very little about her "how we met" story but knew that she's had some experience in editing and therefore might possibly be ok with writing a story for me :) I'm so glad I did! I've taken the liberty to share her story by chapters, so here you go with the first installment.........

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Our Story
Peter and Tabitha (Beachy) Schmidt

At the turn of the century, in 2000, I was living in the lovely mountains of Virginia, on my second year as Girls' Training Supervisor at Faith Mission Home and loving it. I had a fulfilling job, plenty of social life on and off duty, and enough seniority to be able skip some of the myriad evening activities when I wanted. I was part of an amazing chorus committee, worked with a superb team of "office girls," as we called ourselves, and had dozens of meaningful friendships both with staff and others scattered abroad.

Life was really, really good. I was a happy, content 29-year-old. I dreamed of being married, yes. Sometimes I faced private disappointments (at least, I hoped they were private!) when yet another man I hadn't been able to help noticing started dating someone else. As a single, one of the hardest things to face was the fear that I was still unmarried because I was deeply flawed in some way.

(As a married woman, one of my biggest fears is still of being so deeply flawed that I can never be the wife or mother or friend I should be. I have learned it is not a fear unique to singlehood.)

One September day I entered the mailroom, where most of us gathered before lunch break to check for mail. (This was way back in the day, before FMH had email.) This day I found an envelope in my mailbox, minus a return address, addressed in unfamiliar handwriting. "Well!" I declared to the mailroom in general, "this looks interesting!" and sat down right there to read my intriguing letter. As I opened the envelope, I noticed another envelope inside, addressed to the sender. And I knew, without a doubt, that this letter was not to be read in the mailroom, surrounded by staff with a keen interest in each other's love lives or potential romances. I glanced carefully around the room and realized with relief that no one was paying me any attention. I fled.

In the safety of my office, I closed the door and sat at my desk, missive in hand. Funny. My heart is pounding right now, just remembering.

The letter was from a gentleman in Canada, named Peter Schmidt. I knew him slightly. He had worked at FMH in 1994, right after my first term ended. I met him when I went back to visit my sister and friends, and we had seen each other several times since then. The last time I had seen him was in June, when he came for the "big" reunion held at the Home every three years. A group of us former and present staff from the same era got together one evening during the reunion, reminiscing and catching up . Peter and I had been the only unattached ones there, but beyond serving him a glass of water (with a smile, he says), we hadn't talked at all.

In his letter, Peter asked if I would be interested in starting a relationship with him. This wasn't a whim of his -- he'd given it much thought and prayer.

------------------------- And there you can hang in suspense until next time! :)

In Which We Have Story Time

Over the last couple of months I've been trying to encourage a bit more reader interaction. It's been fun to get a little more feed back and to find out who's listening to my blather :) For the month of June, I had planned to do something a little different. June is our anniversary month, so I thought it would be fun to share our story with you and then, as a way to interact with you readers, ask a few of you to share your "How we met" stories! Well, the beginning of June (and our Anniversary) have come and gone and I'm finally getting my act together here!

Two years ago I shared the story of how we met in a series of blog posts I called the "In Which Series". You can go back to the beginning and check them out here. http://bethany-aboutmyfathersbusiness.blogspot.com/2012/04/chapter-1-in-which-mr-know-it-all-meets.html And if you normally get this via email, maybe you'll have to go to the library and do some reading! :) It's a pretty good little tale, one that's fun to remember and re-count. In fact, I'd advise any of you married folks to sit down together and document your story! It does something for you to remember those days, and just exactly why you are where you are today....you might even learn a few things about your story you didn't know before! :)

Our "In Which Series" came about in a rather strange way. We were emailing a friend we'd never met and she wondered how the two of us met? This launched a continued story from us where we would send chapters and she would comment and ask questions. It was so much fun to re-live those memories that we were almost as sorry to have the series end as she was! :)

I have three ladies lined up to share their "How we met" stories with you all and I'll be doing that through out the rest of June. If anyone else wants to volunteer, I'll be glad to include your story in the telling! Just send it to me at christopherbethany@juno.com :) :) I think you are in for a treat with these three! Enjoy.

The Day After

*pictures

Well, it's the day after....... all the bags are (mostly) unpacked, the washer is busily doing it's job, the house is strewn with treasures acquired and tired people. The visitors are all gone, the tearful goodbyes said and the hugs given.

Your prayers sustained us - Thank You from the bottom of my heart!!

We laughed and cried, played and relaxed, cooked and ate, shared "remember when's" and "I wonder what next's", read stories and acted out stories and created new stories, watched the next generation play and create and imagine...and settled a few squabbles. We shared our insides and our outsides, enjoyed the sunshine and the rain, the light and the darkness, and slept a little.

We didn't answer all the questions, or cry all the tears, or solve all the problems, but we loved. We planned and we worked and we journeyed. We stumbled and we wavered and not everything was perfect. But at the end of the day, we looked at all He had done, and it was Good.

*at Mom's funeral, my Aunt Mary showed us a sweet treasure she had found - Little Lavina Paper Dolls! My sisters got their heads together and bought one for each of the grandaughters. My oldest nieces carried on my mom's tradition, and made a Treasure Hunt for the youngest grandchildren while we were together, with paper dolls for the girls and balls for the boys as the treasure.

Since you are my friends.....

This week has been extremely busy. Months ago, the Gingerich family made plans to be together at a cabin here in Ohio June 2-4 to celebrate mom and daddy's 50th Anniversary. We considered cancelling or re-scheduling, but ended up deciding to go ahead with our plans.

Our children can hardly contain their excitement with all the fun things coming up! My brother, Carl, and family will be here this week end already, and they are ecstatic about spending time with their cousins for 5 days in a row!! I've been excited about it too. It's felt right to go ahead and do this, although there's a lot of other feelings too with the knowledge that mom was so eagerly looking forward to this time as a family, and her spot will be empty.

As the time gets closer I've found myself suddenly fearful of how it really will be. Will I get there and all the things that I've felt I "should" be feeling will suddenly come rushing in? Will it be way more painful that I'm imagining? Lots and lots of questions and fears have suddenly come tumbling in and I'm feeling emotionally and physically weary before the time has begun!

Maybe a night of rest will work wonders ...I'm sure it will help... but what I'm wondering is this - since you're my friends, (if you're reading this, I'll assume you're a friend :) ) will you keep my family in your prayers this week? Thank you so very much!

Teaching Our "Best Organizers" to Help Around the House

I grew up in a family where the children didn't have to work hard. Or maybe that was just me, beings I was the youngest and all :) But really, I don't think any of us would say we were over worked. My mom was like me, having a child at her elbow helping with things didn't come naturally and often it was much easier to just quickly do it herself! She also was very soft hearted and felt sorry for us and many, many times she would trade jobs with us - "I'll wash the dishes if you fold the wash" or some such deal. Quite often she would even offer to do the dishes while we all played a game together! That was just mom.

My husband grew up being put to work! He declares that he wouldn't have dreamed of saying he was bored as a child because that would certainly have meant being put to work! Because of our different upbringings, he and I haven't always agreed on what should be expected of our children. I think I mentioned before how he informed me there was no reason for me to be doing dishes and set up a dishwashing schedule and, lo and behold, there really was no reason at all! They even handle putting away leftovers and clearing the drainer perfectly fine on their own!

I'm trying to be more "hard hearted" and get my children to do things instead of making myself frustrated trying to do it all. I still have a long way to go! The two oldest take turns clearing the table / putting food away and clearing the drainer / washing the dishes. The two youngest do a lot of picking/ straightening up. Other jobs the children often get called on for are - hanging out, bringing in, and folding laundry, sweeping the kitchen/dining area, setting the table, entertaining Charles, helping younger ones with drinks, etc.....

I'm trying to work on getting them in the kitchen to help with food prep more. This is a place where it's so easy for me to just quickly do it myself! It goes better if I make some sort of schedule/chart to say who does what and when. Problem is, I often don't take the time to be that organized and I tend to not stick with my own chart after awhile! :)

I've been trying to think what other skills my older ones should be learning.... I know Jasmine would love to learn how to sew, just not sure if I'm ready for that challenge! Doing the laundry maybe?

I enjoyed your input on the last post! You suggested rewards or special privileges for jobs being done or for doing something without being told, giving little ones specific instructions - "Pick up all the blocks. Then pick up all the toy food..."etc, rather then just "Pick up all the toys!" Something I've often done when doing a quick clean up is say "Everyone pick up 5 things!" and keep giving numbers til the job's done.

June is almost here and I'm moving on to another subject.... tell you more about it next week! :)