Hong Kong Amish (The Ranchers Series, #2) (eBook, ePUB)
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I am Solina Cheng.I led protests against the Chinese crackdown in Hong Kong. The police wanted me in a maximum security prison. They began to hunt me down. I was granted refugee status in the United States. My sponsors were an Amish church. I knew nothing about the Amish. The only connection I found between me and them is that I was a refugee and so were they. They'd fled religious persecution in Europe back in the 1700s and I'd fled the persecution of my humanity and my liberty in the 2020s.Other than that? Was the US State Department kidding me? No electricity? No cars? No planes? No TV? No ...
I am Solina Cheng.
I led protests against the Chinese crackdown in Hong Kong. The police wanted me in a maximum security prison. They began to hunt me down. I was granted refugee status in the United States. My sponsors were an Amish church. I knew nothing about the Amish. The only connection I found between me and them is that I was a refugee and so were they. They'd fled religious persecution in Europe back in the 1700s and I'd fled the persecution of my humanity and my liberty in the 2020s.
Other than that? Was the US State Department kidding me? No electricity? No cars? No planes? No TV? No electric guitars or amplifiers? No jeans or miniskirts? Really? So, they'd fled from a 1700s Europe but never left that 1700s Europe behind? I rolled my eyes about a dozen plus one times for no one's benefit but my own. And maybe God's.
They put me on a plane in NYC. They put me on a bus after I landed. I wanted bright lights, big city, like I was used to. I wanted LA or San Francisco or Seattle.
When the bus stopped, and I woke up, I saw mountains.
Tall and capped in white with flanks of indigo and the purest mauve. They looked like cutouts, their edges and definition were so sharp. I did not think about picking up what little bit of luggage I had. Just stared at mountain, after mountain, after mountain. Then I saw the dark brown horse.
I didn't even like horses but it was beautiful. I saw the buggy it was harnessed to. I saw the tall man in his weird clothes from a hundred years before. More than a hundred years. I knew who he was from my books. Fiction and nonfiction. The Amish Man. With his long black beard, wide-brimmed hat and black suspenders over a light blue shirt. Right next to him in a long dark dress with a black Kapp on her head? The Amish Woman.
The Amish Man lifted his hand in greeting. "Miss Solina Cheng? I am Bishop Miller. This is my wife, Mrs. Miller. Welcome to Idaho."
They were so ready to embrace me.
I didn't think I'd ever be able to embrace them or their ways.
Not if I was there all year. Not if I was there till Christmas.
I led protests against the Chinese crackdown in Hong Kong. The police wanted me in a maximum security prison. They began to hunt me down. I was granted refugee status in the United States. My sponsors were an Amish church. I knew nothing about the Amish. The only connection I found between me and them is that I was a refugee and so were they. They'd fled religious persecution in Europe back in the 1700s and I'd fled the persecution of my humanity and my liberty in the 2020s.
Other than that? Was the US State Department kidding me? No electricity? No cars? No planes? No TV? No electric guitars or amplifiers? No jeans or miniskirts? Really? So, they'd fled from a 1700s Europe but never left that 1700s Europe behind? I rolled my eyes about a dozen plus one times for no one's benefit but my own. And maybe God's.
They put me on a plane in NYC. They put me on a bus after I landed. I wanted bright lights, big city, like I was used to. I wanted LA or San Francisco or Seattle.
When the bus stopped, and I woke up, I saw mountains.
Tall and capped in white with flanks of indigo and the purest mauve. They looked like cutouts, their edges and definition were so sharp. I did not think about picking up what little bit of luggage I had. Just stared at mountain, after mountain, after mountain. Then I saw the dark brown horse.
I didn't even like horses but it was beautiful. I saw the buggy it was harnessed to. I saw the tall man in his weird clothes from a hundred years before. More than a hundred years. I knew who he was from my books. Fiction and nonfiction. The Amish Man. With his long black beard, wide-brimmed hat and black suspenders over a light blue shirt. Right next to him in a long dark dress with a black Kapp on her head? The Amish Woman.
The Amish Man lifted his hand in greeting. "Miss Solina Cheng? I am Bishop Miller. This is my wife, Mrs. Miller. Welcome to Idaho."
They were so ready to embrace me.
I didn't think I'd ever be able to embrace them or their ways.
Not if I was there all year. Not if I was there till Christmas.
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