There were 16 people in the room. No music. My father walked me down the aisle. I wore borrowed shoes, some make up, and a fifteen dollar necklace. My siblings bought my wedding dress, and my brother and one of Perze’s best friends took our pictures. We wrote our own vows and I cried straight through my words and his. Our pastor’s wife thoughtfully put lace on the floor of the altar, and my mom adorned it with 2 vases of white roses. The men wore Barongs. The plant that Pastor speaks of these last few Sundays were alive and lush. Every year we go back to that simple day and when we come back to the present, we are in awe with what has transpired since then. Fourteen years of love unfolding.
To God be the glory.