I Never Expected a Favor Returned. My Amish Neighbor Had Other Plans

Author and Amish taxi driver Haley Straw is back to share a new story – of an Amish neighbor who remembered a kindness – and made sure to pay it back, in his own way. 

The gravel crunched under my tires as I pulled into the pasture, the old ticket booth still sitting where it had been for two years—waiting.

I had big plans for that little building.

It had once been an Iowa State Fair ticket booth, but I was turning it into a well house. First, though, it needed a proper concrete base.

So I hired a couple Amish men to come out and pour it.

I wasn’t there when they started. I trusted them to get to work and planned to stop by later.

When I did, I noticed right away that there was someone else there helping.

Albert.

That caught my attention.

Because Albert wasn’t the one I had hired.

Albert and his wife, Faith, had only been my neighbors a few years, but I had gotten to know them well enough to understand the kind of life they were building.

They were young. Newly married when they bought the place up the hill.

Both came from large families—Albert from one of seventeen children, and Faith raised by her widowed mother after losing her father as a teenager.

Their farm hadn’t come easy.

For years, the property had sat mostly empty. The previous owner was hardly ever there—just passing through to feed livestock and mow. I remember thinking at the time how strange it was to have land sitting unused in a growing Amish community where families were always looking for a place to settle.

So I started mentioning it when I could.

Word travels fast in Amish circles.

One day, Albert and Faith happened to run into the owner at Walmart. They asked about the place.

Not long after that… it was theirs.

I remember thinking, well, that worked.

The property wasn’t exactly move-in ready.

There was an old barn that had to come down. And the house…The house had been badly neglected.

Faith and several of the women spent days cleaning it out—hauling trash, scrubbing walls, trying to make it livable. Eventually, they moved in and began building their life there.

And life came quickly.

Babies, one after another. Five in five years.

Then Faith got sick.

At first, no one seemed to know why.

She saw doctors—both English and Amish. Tried different treatments. Traveled for care. Nothing seemed to make a lasting difference.

It took time to figure it out.

Black mold.

The house itself was making her sick.

By the time I really understood how sick she was, I had started driving her to appointments.

And I’ll just say—when it’s just me and another woman in the front seat, the conversation is different. Most of the time I’ve got men riding up front, but with her, it felt easy. We just talked, woman to woman, mother to mother and it was a rare treat.

That’s how I learned her story.

And once I knew, I couldn’t just leave it there.

I brought her books on natural healing. Shared what I could. Picked herbs from my yard so she could make teas.

At one point, I started making smoothies for her to help boost her nutrition and help her feel stronger.

Now, some Amish homes have battery-powered blenders—but they’re not quite the same as a high-powered Vitamix. So I’d make them at my place and bring them over.

Nothing fancy. Just something nourishing.

That’s just what neighbors do.

Eventually, they made a hard decision.

They tore the house down.

For a while, they lived in a small portable shelter on the property while they worked toward building something new. It took time. It took money. It took everything they had.

But they did it.

And slowly, things began to change.

Standing there in the pasture that day, watching Albert work alongside the men I had hired, I didn’t think much of it at first.

Until the job was done.

I walked over, pulled out my wallet, and offered to pay him.

He shook his head.

“No,” he said. “I’m not allowing you to pay me.”

I laughed a little. “But you worked.”

He looked at me, steady and simple.

“All those things you did for my wife,” he said, “that was a gift. I’m just giving that back to you.”

I hadn’t kept track.

I hadn’t been waiting for anything in return.

But he had.

It’s easy to say the Amish support one another. Most people know that much.

I didn’t think much of helping her at the time. That’s just what you do for a neighbor. But I didn’t realize how often things like that come back around.

Sometimes unexpectedly.

Sometimes without a word.

I still think about that from time to time.

How something small — something you almost forget about — can come back around in a way you didn’t see coming.

Have you ever had a moment like that — where something you gave without thinking found its way back to you later?

Haley Straw is a barefoot Amish taxi driver with a storyteller’s heart and a knack for gathering the kinds of tales the Amish share on long, quiet night drives. She tells these stories the way she experienced them —with raw honesty, a healthy dose of fear, and the hard-won wisdom that comes from surviving the storm. You can find her books, free Amish-inspired goodies, and more at haleystraw.com.

Get the Amish in your inbox

Join 15,000 email subscribers. No spam. 100% free

 

 

 

Subscribe