The Wedding

People came from far and wide to witness the marriage of Eleanor and Armando. They were married outside, where the warm southern breeze teasingly threatened the ladies’ elaborate hair dos and where the summer heat mercilessly tested the men’s antiperspirant. The temperature rendered all the guests happily impatient for the garden ceremony to commence and when Eleanor finally walked down the aisle on her father’s arm, Armando’s eyes brimmed with tears of tender joy. Eleanor was radiant in a white organza gown, with Elizabethan collar and full billowy skirt. She wore an exquisite pair of delicate silver beaded sandals. She looked the epitome of beauty. The scene was timeless and romantic. It seemed that time stood still. There was no grand fan fare. There was only the simple and sacred ceremony of a man and a woman becoming husband and wife. The decorations and flower arrangements were not extravagant. The music was not pompous or grandiose. The focus was appropriately completely on the bride and groom. The mood was joyous yet calm and reflective. The ceremony was relatively short and while all the guests took in the beauty of the glorious union, the evening sun shone down and blessed all the guests with a light golden tan.

Their ceremony served as a real reminder of what marriage ceremonies are supposed to be like. They are supposed to be simple and solemn. They are supposed to touch you and leave you spell bound, not because of the ornate decorations or the breathtaking view, but because you feel genuinely honoured to have witnessed the joining of two separate individuals into one couple joined in holy matrimony.