He appeared so solemn in his good black coat and black felt hat. Usually, he looked like the other men in the community, but a bit Plainer. He wore his battered straw hat way into the fall, his old suspenders that had come apart and been knotted on the left side and worn blue trousers with patches on the knees. Not today. This morning, he looked the stern Amish preacher that the English liked to picture on their postcards. Uncle Reuben was a serious man who rarely smiled, but his faded blue eyes were usually kind and his voice soft. Today, his tone was grating and she saw no kindness in his expression, nothing but disapproval and disappointment. She was in trouble, real trouble. Among the Old Order Amish, the rule of the bishop and his two ministers was law. Their decisions on behavior in the community were absolute. If they decided that her behavior was loose, she could be placed under meidung. If she was shunned, she would be forbidden to enter the worship service…unable to sit at the same table with her family and friends.
