ALMOST LIKE MERLIN--

I met my new friend Levi the other day and was amazed when he informed me he was raised Amish but had left that religious order.

That prompted me to inquire about rumspringa, a question that endeared me to Levi as evidence of my nominal awareness of his past culture.

I went on to learn his Amish mom had suffered her own temporary displacement from that culture because Levi's father was not Amish; nor was she married to him. She later atoned for her sin and returned to the Amish culture.

Levi is an enthusiastic young man yet quietly polite in the manner of his upbringing. He smiles easily around the youthful twinkle in his eye.

He went on to tell me he had just found his father who was a truck driver at the time of his birth and had been absent from his life ever since.

He nearly giggled with delight as he shared he and his dad had found lots of mutual enjoyment in hunting and fishing and music and the kinds of things dads and sons customarily enjoy—but had been denied him because of his long estrangement from his pop.

He also told me it was possible for him to return to the Amish way in spite of being shunned all these years.

He would have to petition for that then spend a year eating and attending church services alone as evidence of his atonement before his return would be formally considered.

I wanted our conversation to go on and on.

I was enjoying, really enjoying, the chemistry that had blossomed between us; almost like a lightning strike.

You see, I had just met Levi—as he began to wait on our table at lunch in Newark this past Sunday.