Taking a short cut on the way to my niece’s birthday party, we drove through an Amish community. I slowed as we came to a horse and buggie, and for a few minutes I was a witness to a beautiful but different life from my own.
The women were taking down the days laundry. My mind thought through the process of hand washing and wringing of the hand made clothes. I could almost smell the clothes as they were hung, fresh and clean. All day the bright colors danced in the wind for all the world to see.
A clothesline seems so personal. On it hangs worn pants that show the hours spent working hard, the delicate intimates of which no one speaks but everyone owns, the beautiful dress saved for Sundays, and the simple everyday aprons. Every family clothesline is different and tells a story.
As I drove on, I knew that I was only seeing a part of the picture, but I felt privileged to have shared in this very small part of their lives. My hope is that this blog can be a clothesline view into our lives.