AMISH FAMILY TURNS TO OUTSIDERS\To pay medical bills for injured son, parents find solace in strangers.

Byline: Matt Kelley Associated Press 

When Oba Herschberger saw how his 9-year-old son Samuel had been mangled by a powerful grinder on their farm, he thought the boy was dead. Then he heard a small voice: "Dad, please help me."

To find help since that terrifying moment 4-1/2 years ago, the Herschbergers have turned to a place usually shunned by their close-knit Amish community: the outside world.

First, the Herschbergers journeyed to a distant hospital, a place frightening to them in its vastness and complexity, for the first of 28 operations that saved young Samuel's life and three of his limbs.

Then, facing a six-figure medical bill that was beyond the reach of the Amish help-thy-neighbor tradition, they staked their hopes on the kindness of strangers. Each weekend, they open their home to non-Amish visitors.

The strangers come to the Herschbergers' plain farmhouse in the fertile, flat, corn-and-soybeans country of east-central Illinois.

They eat a home-cooked meal of ham and meat loaf, mashed potatoes and green beans, strawberry angel food cake with homemade ice cream and handpicked fruit, served at long tables by the light of propane lamps.

They leave a donation, whatever they can afford, to help pay Samuel's medical bills.

And they become part of a lesson about the power of kindness and hope.

"I've been amazed at the number of people who still have faith in God, who are concerned about what's going on, who still care about their fellow man," Oba Herschberger says. "It helps you forget some of your problems."

Guests who come to dinner at Herschberger's farm say they leave enriched by the experience.

"It was almost like a spiritual experience," said Timothy DaRosa of Springfield, who attended a recent Saturday night supper with his family.

"I think (my) kids certainly have a better appreciation for what they have. They were not only impressed with their simplistic way of living but by how happy everyone seemed. In a materialistic society like ours, that was kind of hard for them to grasp."

Samuel, a slender blond boy with an unsteady, loping gait and a bashful smile, was three days from his 10th birthday in 1991 when he became entangled in a machine used to grind up corn stalks. It nearly ripped off his arms and legs and left part of his scalp hanging behind his head.

His father described the moment in a journal that the family hopes to publish to raise more money for the medical bills.

"Thinking him dead, I backed away, when a tiny voice said, 'Dad, please help me,' " Oba Herschberger wrote. Leaving his wife, Lorene, to comfort the boy, Herschberger ran to call an ambulance.

" 'Mom, will I die?' Samuel asked," Herschberger wrote. " 'I hope not,' she said, and they began to pray."

Samuel was taken to Memorial Medical Center in Springfield, 70 miles away, where 11 doctors worked for 18 hours to save Samuel's life and reattach his limbs and scalp. His left arm had to be amputated days later because of an infection, and he has little movement in his right hand.

The family's initial shock at Samuel's injuries was magnified by the sudden immersion in the outside society. Herschberger knew how strange he must have seemed to others, with his bushy beard and no moustache, and his plain, homemade clothing and broad-brimmed hat.

"When we first went with Samuel to that large hospital in Springfield, words cannot describe how scared we were," he wrote. "Not only for dear Samuel's condition but also for the vastness of it all."

Not wanting to put more financial strain on their Amish neighbors, the Herschbergers opened their home to non-Amish guests to raise money for Samuel's medical bills, which have topped $500,000. Donations have covered about half of the boy's medical expenses so far.

Samuel responds to questions with silence and a smile. But he eagerly helps feed the family's herd of about 30 dairy cattle and straps on an artificial arm to play board games with his siblings.

The boy seems to have adjusted well, his father says, although he has been seen silently crying as he watched his brothers and sisters playing in the snow.

"Samuel never complains, so why should we?" Herschberger wrote. "Sometimes I think it's harder on the parents to accept a child's handicap than it is for the child himself."

The Herschbergers have grown comfortable with non-Amish visitors and help calm their apprehensions about Amish practices. Yes, they have indoor plumbing, although at night the bathroom is illuminated by a flickering candle.

After the meal, 11-year-old John Herschberger takes guests on a jaunt through the silent, starry night in one of the family's horse-drawn buggies.

As the horse clip-clops down the oil-and-chip road in front of the Herschberger farm, John explains how he drives the buggy to and from his Amish schoolhouse every day and has helped break some of the family's 20 horses.

As his children and the visitors' children play checkers and other games, Oba Herschberger tells his guests how he and his wife have come to enjoy the suppers.

"I like to visit people, and she likes to cook," Herschberger says. "I don't ever want to think about stopping."

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Photo Non-Amish guests of the Oba Herschberger family enjoy a meal at the Herschberger home in Sullivan, Ill., in return for a donation. Associated Press