This is about about a wedding
that took off in a new direction.
My grand-niece Mandy got engaged and
then began the intricate wedding planning, a feat that took months of serious
study and negotiations.
They live in the interior of B.C.
Mandy’s best friend’s family owns a
winery and the family offered their grounds for the wedding. Beautiful
manicured lawns, vines in neat rows and a breathtaking view of the nearby
mountains.
They would have two enormous tents
set up for the reception, sit-down
dinner and dancing.
They knew where to go for the wine.
It was the most meticulously planned
event in the family and it was going to be a smash. And it was, but not what
they planned.
On the day of the much-anticipated
event, B.C. had the storm of all storms--high winds, driving rain, power
outages everywhere and it lasted all day.
First to go was the power, then the
tents.
My information is all second hand
since I live three thousand miles away but this is what I gathered: Phone calls
went out to all able-bodied friends who raced to the scene, armed with
anything that might help them with heat, light and sound.
The nearby enormous storage barn (it
stored wine barrels on their sides) was pressed into use as the entire-event
site. Mercifully that barn had never sheltered animals so the cleaning was quicker. Chairs
were hastily set up for the ceremony and they would later be pressed into service
for the dinner.
Tables were set up in another area and beautifully set, as originally planned.
Tables were set up in another area and beautifully set, as originally planned.
Tapers and votive candles blossomed everywhere—there is a candle concession somewhere that found their sales zoomed
astronomically that day.
Instead of the bride serenely
strolling along the lawn on the arm of her father, he escorted her through the
dark barn to the entrance where the minister waited.
Mandy and Jordan, here's to a happy lifetime together. You've already survived the storms.