Jarrad was kicked out of his family’s home at sixteen for being gay. He struggled to survive until his adoptive family found him nearly dying in their church. They helped him get well and loved him. Jarrad studied hard and got into college. He chose nursing and planned on becoming a midwife. One afternoon after class, he got in his car and accidentally set off the car’s horn. This startled a man dressed in all black who had been sleeping on the bench in front of Jarrad’s car. Jeremiah was an Amish on his Rumspringa. They became fast friends and then eventually, over time, became lovers. Their love was deep and seemed endless. Jarrad came home to celebrate the end of Rumspringa and to share the passing of his nursing boards, only to find Jeremiah was gone without a trace. Jeremiah hadn’t just left. He had written a letter. Jarrad found no letter. After much heartache, the two moved on. They married and had families. Neither of them ever forgot the other and always wondered what had happened. Nearly twenty-eight years later, Jarrad saw paintings of himself in a quaint little Amish store—Jeremiah’s store.