Historias de Mennonite

What if string theory really was the "theory of everything," from electrons to haunted houses? Leah Kaufmann is a modest Mennonite maiden who is fascinated by Isaac, a barefoot boy with a gift. Dr. Elias Kahn is a disgraced professor with a pet snail--and a curse. When innocent Isaac wants to know where angels come from, Kahn turns to theoretical phyics for the answers--and discovers more than anyone ever expected.

A journey inside the life of a young Mennonite woman and her desire for love...and escape from the restrictions of her society.

This is the book number 2 Winter at The Salt Box.

How long can someone hold out for hope? How long do the clutches of bitterness bite at someone until they are completely consumed? How often does someone like that get help? How often do they experience the overwhelming love, power, and newness of Christ? How long will she wonder if everyone's going to leave, and distrust them? How long will her differences and talent single her out and make her feel alienated and a spectical? Not until she sits at that kitchen table and hears the woman say, "Marielli! Your talents, your uniqueness, your God given difference, and your past, they don't define you. They're... Who You Aren't."

This acrostic poem is about a lovely, talented lady that anyone would be proud to have as a friend.

Story of a dream I had after I watched a show from Hulu called "Pure"

A story about a girl who is adopted with her 2 older sisters into a Mennonite family.

In 1969 three young men make a groovy road trip around the United States. The music is far-out. The people are cool. The establishment is rotten.

John and Ina met at Goshen College in January of 1937. From there, they inspired many. Their Sunday School in Dillon, Illinos soon became a church. Their letters became a part of church history in Ohio and Illinos. Love was only a biproduct of their impact and without them, a piece of history would not exist.

When a band of wayfarers enter a peaceful community to trade, the townsfolk are forced with a horrific choice.

Zayn Malik is searching for some peace away from the media following his break up with Perrie Edwards. He just didn't plan to end up sick in an isolated Mennonite Community. There are not that many stories about Zayn, especially sickfics , so I decided to do one set in the Community where I once lived before we were shunned.

My name's Kate, and I'm the one they called beautiful. Not that it matters much now. Maddie's the one who really mattered, and she's gone. Set in a modern Mennonite culture, They Called Me Beautiful focuses on the lives of two young ladies, Katherine Hershberger and Madeleine Proctor. Maddie was the vibrant one, Kate the quiet one. Early childhood found them inseparable, but the progression of time and its accompanying circumstances served to drive them farther and farther apart. Only brokenness on both their parts would bring them together again. And even then, only for a little.

Harold Martin wasn't always a cynic. He was once an optimistic young pastor, filled with joy, optimism and hope. But years of struggle, disappointment, and the unforgiving Manitoba winters had worn him down to a shell of the man he used to be. And now, in the cold dark night of the soul, Harold must decide whether he wants to keep the spark alive, or let despair consume him entirely.

Rosemary is part of an old order community 30 years after an unnamed apocalyptic event. Now she participates in a harvest of meat.

"Look I can see myself in the clear water , Moon River, Samantha Schmucker said kneeling down next to the cool clear water. Freedman Petersheim, kneeling right by her. Taking his hands cupping them drinking cold , liquid , slurping the goodness . Taking his handkerchief to wipe his mouth. " In the beginning was God, in God promises of an Angel sent."

Yet, despite these urgent concerns, the unspoken topic that permeated the gathering was Claire. Her continued defiance, her blatant disregard for their traditions, was a festering wound within the pack. Whispers circulated amongst the adults, hushed conversations held in the corners of barns and during the long hours spent mending fences. Some argued for stricter measures, believing that only harsher punishments could break her rebellious spirit. Others, particularly those who remembered her gentle nature as a young pup, pleaded for understanding, suggesting that perhaps her unusual upbringing, the shadow of her mother's outsider status, had contributed to her wayward ways. Luna Brenda stood at the edge of the gathering, her face pale and drawn. She had heard the cries, as she always did, the familiar sounds of her daughter's pain tearing at her heart. But years of living under the Alpha's stern rule had taught her the futility of intervention. Her role now was a silent one, a figurehead until Claire reached marriageable age. The knowledge of her impending fate, the Alpha's intention to replace her once Claire was wed, was a constant ache in her chest, a shadow that followed her every move. She watched her daughter, a small, bruised figure still recovering in the relative solitude of their shared home, a deep well of sorrow and a fierce, protective love churning within her.