If you live north of the Mason-Dixon
Line, you’ve been thinking about heating your home this
winter. If you are an Amish deacon,
you’ve also been thinking about heating your district’s parochial school.
I stood a long distance away to take this picture on a snowy
day in December, because I didn’t want to intrude on the labors of this crew
that was hauling slab wood to school and cutting it into appropriate lengths on
a tabletop saw run by a gasoline engine.
The saw is perched on the little red cart with iron wheels, standing
between the load of wood and the side of the school.
The men would unload three or four of the long slabs and
feed them forward so that the man at the blade could run the stock through the
saw, before he pitched the cut ends of firewood into the basement window at his
elbow. And these men were working as
fast as they could go, because out on the road stood three other wagon-loads of
slab wood, like the one in this photo, and it all had to be cut to length and
pitched into the basement for the teacher to use in her wood stove.
I remember thinking at the time that this is how so many
Amish fingers are lost – hurrying too fast with a saw – but the men seemed to
be experts at their work, and I just stood and admired the rhythm and the
pace. Just before I took this
photograph, I also was thinking how glad I am that we have a gas furnace at our
house. And how do I worry about heating
the house in winter? I just fiddle with
the thermostat and faithfully pay those gas bills every month. Oh, wait a minute; I pay for heat. Most of us
do. There’s a thought to bring you up
short.
In contrast, these Amish men probably get their firewood for
free. It’s slab wood from a local Amish
sawmill, owned no doubt by a member of the congregation. And if I were Amish, I’d be on the Deacon’s
list, too. One day a load would be
delivered to my house. It’s just that
I’d have to cut and stack it myself. I’d
have to haul it inside each day to fuel the fireplaces for home heat and the
stoves for cooking.
And there’s another thought.
Maybe paying that gas bill once a month isn’t so bad.
Labels: Amish, Amish Culture, Amish-Country Mysteries, Holmes County, P. L. Gaus
