Injured in a freak accident at the age of six, Rebekah is a paraplegic, cared for by her devoted grandmother who dies of natural causes at the start of the book. Now, at the age of 19, Rebekah stands by the sidelines as all of her friends and family play volleyball and go to weenie roasts and snuggle in their courting buggies. Convinced no man would ever desire her, Rebekah throws herself into her career as a flower and garden peddler, assisted by a young man, Daniel, who openly and wantonly lusts for densely deluded Rebekah …
No, the sarcasm feels empty … I actually really liked this book … sometime between 1984 and The Virgin Suicides I became a romance fan … I find it curious how the loneliest people self-persecute and convince themselves no one could ever love them, when a hapless soulmate flounders for attention in plain sight …
But with these Amish romances … it’s hard to make fun of them because these people are so nice … it’s heartwarming how the whole town volunteers to build Rebekah’s greenhouse so she can start her own business … and despite a pity party or two or ten I was really rooting for Rebekah to requite Daniel’s unrequited love …
At the end of this book, I sighed deeply … on the verge of losing my job, and declaring bankruptcy, and auditioning for My 600 Pound Life … would my problems resolve themselves if I studied my oft neglected Bible, sung hymns at a hootnanny, and ditched feminism to settle as a hausfraa? In today’s world, I longed for a happy ending, and God granted this small but fervent prayer … for a few stolen chapters, I could forget the complexity and sarcasm of a godless life … and fall not just in love with the happy Amish couple, but the happy Amish town, and the happy Amish community based on faith and potlucks … maybe God is trying to tell me something …