Today a New Day
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Flower girl finds magic in a jar
Aren’t weddings wonderful? I was recently “mother of the groom” at our son’s wedding.
The couple had planned it to perfection with a few surprises thrown in.
The rehearsal went well. The 3-year-old flower girl marched down the aisle without a hitch, wagging her finger at the ring bearer because he would not hold her hand. Dinner afterward was fun with lots of laughs and joy.
The women converged on a salon for new hairstyles on the morning of the wedding. Again, all went well — we were proud of our elegant new ‘dos. Except for the flower girl. By the time the stylist got around to her, several hours had passed.
She had been so good all morning but being the center of attention while a stranger played with her hair was too much. Even with mom holding her, she just couldn’t handle it. With tears flowing down her cheeks and wails echoing off the walls, we conceded to her fears. Before the wedding, mom and grandma worked to coax a few curls to show up. A baby blue coronet of ribbon atop her dark curls made her look cherubic.
Fun surrounded the women again as we gathered at the church to dress in our wedding finery.
I won’t go into details, but if you’ve been a part of a wedding party, you know what goes on behind the scenes. Shoes, veils, hoops, gowns, hugs, tears, smiles, bouquets, boutonnieres, hairpins, cameras…the list goes on. The flower girl was happy — the room chosen for the women to change in was the toddler nursery; there were all kinds of toys to play with.
Finally it was time for the ceremony — the flower girl was coached on how to toss flower petals from her basket onto the carpet when she and the ring bearer walked down the aisle.
Everyone was in place. The music started. The candles were lit. The attendants made their way down the aisle. The ring bearer proudly carried the ring pillow. He and the flower girl walked together, petals falling prettily from her dainty hands. About half way down the aisle, the flower girl’s lower lip started trembling. A few more steps and sobs could be heard. By the time the flower girl reached the steps leading to the altar, she was in full cry. As mother of the groom, I was sitting on the front pew and rescued her, handing her to her mother, sitting one pew behind. As her mom took her, the diminutive granddaughter was heard to say, “I don’t want to throw them out.”
Grandma’s conclusion: either she thought she would get in trouble for throwing stuff on the floor, or she thought the petals too pretty to throw away. How do you explain wedding traditions to a 3-year-old attending her first wedding?
The bride made her way to the altar on the arm of her uncle. The groom received his bride, and the rest of the ceremony was beautiful, spiritual, and blessed. Just before the introduction of the couple to the guests as Mr. and Mrs.…the bride’s surprise for the groom appeared.
“Elvis” came in singing “Can’t Help Falling In Love With You.” The look on the groom’s face was priceless.
A shower of bubbles greeted the couple’s exit from the church, and the flower girl was captivated with the magic contained in that tiny jar.
The newlyweds wanted their guests to feel welcome and comfortable, so during the photo session at the church, the guests made their way to the “Blue Hawaii” themed reception held at a park. “Elvis” entertained, a DJ played music and a hors-d’oeuvres supper was served. A cupcake tower assured that guests who had to leave early could help themselves to wedding cake without having to wait for the bride and groom to cut and serve the first piece.
Games, food, toasts and dancing followed the wedding party’s arrival at the reception. The groom’s surprise for the bride was a song sung by the best man and his band — a new version of a rock ‘n’ roll classic sung as “Mary Sue.”
The flower girl had a wonderful time. She danced with her cousin, brothers, mom and grandma; tossed balloons with a new friend and after discovering those bubbles spent most of the evening entertained with a small jar of magic.
Cyndi Pratt, a Missouri native, is a grandmother to seven. Her husband, Roger, is the newspaper’s press foreman and also a Baptist minister.
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