It’s not the usual big and expensive wedding.
And there’s neither limousine nor wedding bells.
It’s just a modest marriage ceremony in autumn.
Groups of people in formal dress arrive early.
Some come by twos, others by themselves.
The guests greet each other and begin to mingle.
Brides usually arrive late, that’s what I heard.
My bride is no exception, she hasn’t arrived yet.
The wait is much longer than I anticipated.
I’m a little nervous, but I’m not perspiring heavily.
The wedding begins well despite the late start.
All eyes are focusing on the entrance of the Hall.
The mini-bride and the ring bearer lead the bridal party.
Then my dashing bride walks in with her brother-in-law.
The audience absorbs the officiator’s fine lecture.
In the presence of God and the assembly we exchange vows.
And the officiator pronounces us man and wife.
I kiss the bride then we sign the marriage certificate.
Though I’m holding her hand in an uncustomary way,
The guests greet us with handshakes and embraces.
Cameras and camcorders capture the joyous moments.
Relatives and friends comment on the discourse.
Some wish us a long and prosperous life together.
Other guests simply congratulate us warmly.
It’s late in the evening and we’re going on honeymoon.
We wave to the crowd as the gray car drives through the gate.
The words “Just Married” in red letters are on a white
heart-shaped pillow in the rear window of the Bluebird sedan.