As you walk through the valley where we harvest our grain, you'll notice something different about Lancaster County. Life here is plain — and that's just perfect for us. We shun fancy things like electricity, not out of ignorance, but out of devotion to a simpler, more intentional way of living.
At 4:30 in the morning, we're milking cows. Jebediah feeds the chickens and Jacob plows. This has been our way for generations — we've been milking and plowing so long that sometimes even the neighbors think we're a little crazy. But we're people of the land. We're into discipline. We carry a Bible in hand, wear a beard on chin, and find meaning in every honest day's work.
The Amish first settled in Lancaster County in 1699, seeking a place where they could live according to their faith without interference. Over three centuries later, the community continues to thrive — not despite its separation from the modern world, but because of it.
It is a common misunderstanding that the Amish reject all technology. In truth, the community is technologically selective rather than technologically backward. Each decision about whether to adopt or refuse a tool is weighed carefully against its impact on family, community, and faith. The question is never "Can we use this?" but rather "Should we?"
This deliberate approach to living has preserved something rare: a community where every member knows their neighbor, where work is shared, and where the pace of life is set not by the clock on a screen, but by the sun overhead and the seasons underfoot.
"And when we finish all of our chores — and you finish thine — we gather as a community to celebrate the traditions that have sustained us since 1699."