The 24-year-old's parents have decided the family will take part in the election.

They are among 50 000 of the 180 000 Amish in the United States who live in Pennsylvania, where only a few votes could decide whether President George W. Bush or Democratic rival John Kerry wins the battleground state on November 2.

Martha Lapp, in her black dress and white bonnet, left the family house to watch as the Republican president passed by in his campaign bus in July.

Bush met 30 Amish — descendants of Swiss-German Mennonites who fled persecution in Europe in the 16th century — who offered the president a homemade patchwork quilt.

The Amish are famous for their strict beliefs and their rejection of modern day conveniences, such as electricity and cars. The Republicans like to think Bush can tap into the sect's conservative values.

Chet Belier, a one-time Amish who is now a Republican activist, is trying to sign up his former community.

"Many are enthused about supporting President Bush because they agree on many social issues," he said, while insisting that he is only telling them how to register to vote.

In general less than 10 percent of Amish take part in an election. Lapp, who works in an Amish bakery called "Immergut" (Always Good), said her family had rarely voted in the past.

Religious matters and abortion were the two main issues for the family, said Lapp as she rolled pretzels and confessed that she would rather read the cartoons than news in a newspaper.

But the Iraq war has been a sensitive topic for the Amish who are pacifists and conscientious objectors.

"War has never been the right thing, it's always been wrong," said Leroy Esh (76), standing barefoot in the courtyard in front of his house, crushing apples with an antique and noisy compressed air press.

"Love is the thing," he added. "Otherwise when you fight somebody they just fight back."

Esh said he knows a bit about Bush and has seen stories about Kerry in the local newspaper, the Lancaster New Era. "I like to read the front page," he said, but added he prefers the birth and death announcements.

"I don't really know why I vote," he said, echoing the reticence of many Amish about involvement in politics.

It is not using an electronic voting machine that worries them.

"They can use a computer, they can get into a car, it's not a problem as long as it is owned by somebody else," said Steve Scott, a researcher at Elizabethtown College in Lancaster.

"It is not the object that is harmful (according to their beliefs) but the easy access to it," added Scott, who has written books about the Amish and Mennonites.

"They believe the Bible teaches that Christians are part of God's kingdom, which is separated from the kingdom of this world. Therefore a Christian should not become involved in political affairs.

"They try to be good citizens, to obey the laws of the land — when they don't conflict with their personal beliefs. They appreciate that the government doesn't interfere and they don't choose the government."

Some Amish cling to beliefs stuck in the 18th century. But portable telephones are creeping into the community, and tourism, modernity and rising land prices are putting pressure on their lives.

They live in big, but modest homes, with lines of black and white clothes hanging out to dry and horse-drawn carriages in the country roads.

The church remains the centre of community life, their schools still have just one class that children must leave when they reach adolesence. The Amish do not like to be photographed and they do not like to be told who to vote for.

Norman Kauffman, whose family has run a fruit conserve and jelly business since 1911, refuses to vote and says he leaves God to decide elections.

A party activist recently visited him. "She left quickly," he said.