A Place to Stay: How One Child Found A Home Among the Amish
Author and Amish taxi driver Haley Straw is back with part one of a four-part Christmas series. It follows the true story of a young boy from Chicago, whose longing for warmth and belonging sends him on an unlikely winter journey toward an Amish community he’d only read about in a library book. This retelling draws from the original “Please Let Me Stay” account shared in a private family history book.
Part 1: The Boy Who Dreamed of Home
Every so often, an Amish story comes along that settles deep in my spirit and refuses to leave. It might be a tale told in the dusty warmth of a buggy shed, or something shared over a long nighttime drive when my headlights are the only glow for miles.
And sometimes, like with this one, it’s a story passed down through families—held gently, retold quietly, and carried like a lantern through the dark.
This one came to me years ago from an Amish passenger who wanted to help keep me awake during an 850-mile haul. By the time the sun came up, I knew I’d never forget it. The bones of this tale are true, though many details have been softened or changed to protect the privacy of the man we’ll call W.M.
Still, the heart of it remains untouched. Because truth—especially the kind soaked in grace—doesn’t need perfect accuracy to shine.
A Boy Without a Home
W.M. was born on the south side of Chicago in the early 1960s, in a neighborhood where winter crept through the walls like it owned the place and heat was more of a rumor than a reality.
He didn’t grow up with the sort of “home” most of us imagine. He drifted between a row of identical houses—205 to 210—sleeping wherever he could find an empty corner of a bed or a space on a cold living-room floor.
He knew who his mother was, though he rarely saw her. Fathers were a mystery word, something other kids on TV talked about. Brothers and sisters? He thought he might have a few, but no one ever said for sure. Life in those row houses was a revolving door of people coming and going—faces changing faster than the seasons.
Food came the same way: sporadically. A jar of peanut butter shared among ten children. An overripe banana sliced carefully in half so nobody took the “last bite.” A watery cup of school soup that felt like a feast because it was warm.
He didn’t know much about tenderness, but he knew survival.
And he was good at it.
He hid treasures the way some boys hid baseball cards—rubber bands, bits of plastic to wrap around shoes, and change he found on the street. His stash once held $12.26, which might as well have been a treasure chest. Until an angry man with heavy hands forced it all out of him one afternoon. After that, W.M. learned to tuck his hope a little deeper.
The Librarian Who Opened a Door
Like a lot of bookish children, W.M. found refuge in stories long before he ever found it in people. His second-grade teacher introduced him to the library, and the librarian—Miss Mikesell—introduced him to worlds he didn’t know existed.
Those shelves became his escape hatch.
He read about families who sat down to meals together. Mothers who tucked children in at night. Fathers who prayed over their sons. It all sounded impossible, but impossibility didn’t keep him from imagining.
Then one November, he picked up a book with a Christmas story in it—one set inside an Amish home. The children in the illustration wore plain clothes and bright smiles. Their faces glowed with the kind of steady warmth he had only ever felt from a library lamp.
And for the first time, a thought tugged at him: People like this really exist.
He asked the librarian, and she nodded. “There’s a whole community of them about a hundred miles east of here,” she said. “In northern Indiana.”
The map in his heart rearranged itself right then.
A Dream That Wouldn’t Let Go
Once the idea took root, it grew fast. A hundred miles felt like forever—but also just close enough.
Why not?
Why not try?
Why shouldn’t a hungry boy with cold feet and a book-sparked dream look for a place where the world was warmer?
He didn’t tell anyone—not that anyone would’ve listened. But he tucked the thought into his coat like one of his rubber bands: useful, necessary, and just maybe the key to survival.
Christmas break was coming. School would close. There’d be no breakfast program, no library, no warm bowl of milky soup.
And so the plan began forming in the quiet.
I will go. I will find an Amish home like the one in the book.
Not because he expected miracles, but because he couldn’t shake the image of those glowing faces. Sometimes longing is a compass with a mind of its own.
Why This Story Still Matters
I think this story has survived all these years because it touches something deep in all of us—an ache for belonging. A reminder that sometimes the people who find us aren’t the ones we were born to, but the ones who open the door when we knock.
Whenever I retell this story, especially around Christmastime, I think about that small boy standing in the cold Chicago wind, pockets empty except for dreams and grit. And then I picture an Amish family miles away—sitting around a warm kitchen stove, unaware that grace is already on its way to intersect their life.
We never know the full ripple of answering God’s quiet tug.
Of leaving a light on.
Of opening a door.
Of choosing welcome.
In my years of driving Amish families—barefoot in the snow more often than I care to admit—I’ve learned that grace doesn’t always shout.
Sometimes it’s the softest thing on the road. Sometimes it sounds like a passenger telling you a story at 2 a.m. so you don’t drift off behind the wheel. Sometimes it whispers its way across generations, reminding us what home can really mean.
In Part 2, we follow W.M. as he begins his desperate Christmas journey toward the Amish he read about in a library book. With nothing but grit, cold feet wrapped in plastic, and a dream he couldn’t shake, he steps into the unknown—hoping to find the home he’s never had.
Haley Straw is a barefoot Amish taxi driver with a storyteller’s heart and a knack for collecting the kinds of tales the Amish whisper on long night drives. She shares those stories — including this Christmas series — the way they were given to her: gently, gratefully, and with a little lantern-light warmth. You can find her books and free Amish-inspired goodies at haleystraw.com.
Sad
Why steal when any Amish family would share . I find it such a selfish act .
I would love to become Amish and live in Indiana in an Amish community. I know it will never happen.
Reply
“Yes, ma’am—it really can happen! It’s happening for me right now, and I promise, it can happen for you too. If your heart tells you this is what God wants, pray, reflect, and trust Him. All things are possible through Christ, who gives us the strength to do what feels impossible.
I won’t lie—life in the Amish community isn’t perfect. There are struggles and challenges in many families, just like anywhere else. But that doesn’t mean you can’t belong. You can make it work. I’m living proof.
If you live near an Amish community, reach out. Talk to someone—maybe a woman, since you’re a woman—and let her guide you to the bishop. Be honest. Be sincere. Pour out your heart. They will listen when they see that you are genuine. Don’t be afraid.
I did exactly that. I gave everything I had—my heart, my sincerity—and now I’m moving in with a bishop and his family. They respect sincere seekers. The process takes time, but if this is truly where your heart is, the waiting will feel too short. You’ll know it’s right, deep in your soul, and every step toward it will feel like coming home.
Trust yourself. Trust God. Your path is waiting—you just have to take the first brave step.”
Longing
Amelia, I fantasized about living the Amish lifestyle. After driving a taxi for them, I learned that the Amish lifestyle and religion (they go hand in hand) are not for me.
If there are Amish in your area, I’d encourage you to get to know them, go to their stores, attend their auctions, perhaps even offer to drive them a little bit. Amish taxi drivers have the best view into the Amish world other than the Amish themselves.
As Daniel M said, anything is possible. There are more modern communities; I know of one in Michigan and one in Maine that actually proselytize and open their church services to the non-Amish.
There is also a book about a woman who joined the Amish church, it’s called “Called to be Amish: My Journey from Head Majorette to the Old Order” by Marelen C Miller.
“Where there’s life, there is hope.” Amish Proverb
Reply
“Wow… what a moving story. I really love this one. I can’t wait for part 2! I hope he finds exactly what he’s been searching for. There’s something unforgettable about people who rise from the hardest places—people who refuse to let their past define them. I feel that, because I’ve lived some of those same feelings myself.
I’m only 17, but I know what it’s like to feel invisible, to wonder if you’ll ever be enough, and to carry the desperate weight of wanting to belong. I’ve felt the loneliness of holding everything inside, of believing there’s no one who truly understands.
But today… things are different. I have people who support me, who believe in me, and because of that, I’m accomplishing things I never thought possible. Hope doesn’t always arrive in a big moment—it often comes quietly, like a small spark that slowly grows into light.
My heart goes out to anyone who’s been through the worst and still keeps going. And to anyone who feels lost, searching, or like hope is too far away—don’t give up. God is closer than you think. Even when the path seems impossible, He is guiding you.
Whether you’re facing addiction, poverty, hunger, the loss of someone you love, or the heavy feeling that you don’t matter—know this: you do have a purpose. Your life has meaning, even on the darkest days. God has a plan for each of us, even when we can’t see it.
If you feel like you’re at the edge, or ready to give up, remember this: the story isn’t over. There is a way forward. There is a new beginning. You deserve to feel peace, belonging, and purpose. Hold on—it’s real. It’s possible. It’s waiting for you.”
Spring Chicken
Daniel, you are only 17? My stars, I SO badly want to know your story. I’ve only heard a few cases of Amish having English children/youth in their home as family, primarily through adoption for those who can’t have children of their own, one way or another.
May God bless you on your most unique journey into the Amish world.
Reply
Yes, I’m only 17. The community I’m connected with is on the more modern side for Old Order Amish, but still very reserved toward outsiders. Hardly anyone from outside ever becomes part of their circle. I know of a few who made it, but many others tried and weren’t able to.
This is in Holmes County, Ohio. I’m actually in contact with two bishops — one who just stepped down because his wife is Ill, and another whose family I’ll be moving in with. I wish I could figure out a way to share the whole story with you. I’ll have to think about how to share my story with since I won’t have internet access and don’t have a phone. I probably won’t have time to go to a library to use a computer in Walnut Creek or Charm Pizza Co. Also, I am not sure they would be too happy that I am not at home because I am using a computer after work.
You’re right that it’s rare. They have a 22-year-old son who still lives at home, and I never imagined that after only two months they would be open to including me the way they have. I literally met them once to talk and then spent the night once to meet their son and talk some more.
GOD's Beloved.
Daniel, I want to let you know your emotions and desires to be ‘heard’, ‘seen’, and to belong are universal. This is why we need to know GOD’s love for us. It is the foundation we need, to stand on. You were never random, and you are (very) loved!
Daniel M's story
Hello Daniel, I am impressed by your very eloquent writing, and sharing your story with such emotional intelligence.
May I suggest, since you won’t have a computer handy, to have a note book on hand. Journal at the end of the day to compose your 1st book!
Tips: Who, what, where, when, why.
‘Who’ was involved in your previous life before the Amish. ‘What’ inspired you, your dreams. ‘Where’ do you see this journey taking you in the future. Sharing ‘When’ your journey started. ‘Why’ (or ‘How’) you arrived in your situation.
Let’s believe in your second book as well. Sharing all of your experiences as you integrate into Amish life, and what you are learning.
This is some food for thought, GOD’s Beloved. It is your story and you share it as you wish! Your writing is very pure. Journaling would work well for you, because before you know, you have a book!
We are all supporting your efforts to blossom in your GOD given creative talents! You are very gifted!
Faith (Ches) M.