Dating, wedding, intimacy, married life. Everything the Amish don't say out loud.
Share a bed. Clothed. With a board between. Officially.
Secretly. In an open buggy. Sunday after service.
At bride's parents' house. No instructions. They'll figure it out.
Forbidden. But 6.8 children became 5.3. Someone's doing something.
No. Period. Not one in 300 years. Well, almost.
He — field, workshop, money. She — home, children, garden. No debate.
Don't say it. Don't write it. Don't show it. But build barns at 5 AM.
9 months. 8 times. No ultrasound. No leave. Gender — surprise.
1-3 years. Always. He slightly older. She slightly younger. No 20-year gaps.
Not in public. Never. At home — different. But nobody sees.
Dress to ankle. Hair under cap. Body — not for eyes.
Happens. Hidden. Leaving — impossible. Dark side.
She died. A year later — new wife. Not cruelty — necessity.
Only in marriage. Only at night. Only for children. Officially.
In a community of 30 families everyone knows everyone. Nothing to be jealous of — and nowhere to go.
Officially — no matchmakers. Unofficially — every mother with a daughter of age.
Not Maldives. Visiting relatives by buggy. 2-3 months.
16 years. Can do anything. Well, almost. Half end up in church.
One bed. Quilt. No mirrors. Darkness.
Doesn't exist. Officially. Reality — more complex.