To recap: It was the Scribe's birthday. All she wanted was to meet a princess who she thought lived in a nearby castle (a.k.a reception center). I couldn't afford the admittance fee AND there was a wedding going on that day anyway. That's when Grandma Gertie (a dear friend) suggested we crash a wedding and hope for the best.
We (the Scribe, the Hippie, Gertie, my mother and I) went in and some fancy woman grabbed the Scribe and said the bride just NEEDED to see her darling dress. Too bad the bride was about 90 sizes too big and I almost fainted wondering what my honest Scribe would say to her!
It's those moments where you can either shine with goodness or crash and burn.
Some women hurl threats while having a baby. Some people aren't nice on their wedding days. On my graduation day, I personally failed. It was shortly after that when I ran away to Hawaii and became a homeless street musician.
Anyway, back to the point--God tests us and I was about to see someone get tested firsthand.
The Scribe walked up to that bride. Would the woman be kind or would she explode into a million tiny pieces of estrogen?
Do you remember what I wrote yesterday? The bride wasn't your average bride. She wasn't this strange . . .
But the fact remained that she was still an "eye catcher." I'd never seen a woman that big--seriously--especially on her wedding day.
The skinny groom stood beaming next to her. The elderly woman nudged the Scribe closer and I couldn't help but follow.
That's when the Scribe looked up at the bride. I watched her eyes grow big as they gathered every detail. She lightly touched some of the fabric of the woman's wedding dress.
"I like your dress," the bride said.
"I like yours too," the Scribe whispered.
"Do I know you?" the bride asked.
"No, but I feel like I know you. I'm surprised though . . . you're really--"
I jumped through everyone around me and flung myself at the Scribe's side. I'm sure my hair hung wildly and I looked like a nut. I was so desperate to save that woman's day. She didn't need to hear the "F" word (fat) on her wedding day.
The woman looked at me, gazing up and down. "Who are you?" she asked.
I glanced back at my mom and Gertie. They silently begged me to remember their words Act like you belong. Don't blow this for the Scribe; she doesn't need her mother going to jail on her birthday.
Once again, the bride spoke, "Do I know you?"
My mom twisted a cloth napkin in her hands. Gertie practically chewed on her nails. The Scribe and the Hippie looked longingly at the wedding cake and I THOUGHT HOW MUCH I'D HATE TAKING SHOWERS IN JAIL!
"Are you a friend of my husband's?"
"Ummm . . . Well . . ." I didn't know how to respond. Was she a bridezilla? Like I wrote before, I've seen plenty of those. Once a bride screamed at her bride's maid because her makeup looked too good. When she threw her bouquet--it was at someone's face! I didn't want to be honest if this bride was someone like that. Her bouquet probably had roses in it and that would hurt.
As I thought about all those things, the Scribe suddenly took over. She grabbed the bride's hand. "I wanted to tell you before, but then my mom went wild. What I was saying was that you're . . . really . . ."
STOP for a minute. This is when I almost died. What would you have done? Seriously, my daughter was standing next to one of God's biggest creations; I couldn't let her say something terrible?! Would you have made up some story, told a silly joke, grabbed your kid and ran? That's normally what I would have done, but for some reason, standing there in the castle, I wanted to see what the Scribe would say, plus this was fate. A woman's heart was being tested. If she reacted poorly, then she had a terribly soul; if she acted kindly, she deserved that wonderful wedding and all the fine guests who obviously loved her.
I thought all of that in an instant. I also thought about how ludicrous it is that some people think bridezillas are a myth!
"You're really . . ." the Scribe said and I held my breath, "real! My mama told me there was a princess here."
The lady blushed, then smiled. "You think I'm a princess?"
"Because you are," the Scribe said. "And now you've met your prince and you can finally leave this place. This is the best birthday ever. Hey, can my little sister meet you, too?"
The bride nodded and as the Scribe ran to get her sister, the bride and groom both turned to me. "How do we know you?" the groom asked.
"Do we even know you?" the bride asked.
I could lie . . . I could go to jail OR I could hope she'd pass the test. "No," I said. "I don't know you. It's my little girl's birthday though and all she wanted to do was meet the princess of the castle. I couldn't afford the owner's fees, so we came here . . . during your wedding. I'm sorry if we ruined anything for you."
"Are you kidding?" the bride said. "Your daughter just called me a princess. I'll never forget this. How many brides have a magical story like this to remember from their wedding day?"
The groom kissed her with so much love. It's rare seeing that kind of joy between a couple.
"I'm so happy for both of you," I said. "You have something special." I grabbed the bride's hand a squeezed. "You're something special." And she truly was, one of the most beautiful people I've ever met.
As the Scribe brought the Hippie, my mom and Gertie closer to the bride, the elderly lady who'd first found the Scribe had tears in her eyes. My mom looked terrified and Gertie's face shone with mirth.
We left shortly after that. And I realized how amazingly good people can be. That woman could have sent me to the slammer but instead she saw the bright side of things: a little girl who needed a fun birthday; a wedding that would always be remembered, and the fact that she'd found the love of a lifetime.
It's been five years since that memorable wedding. I hope the big princess is happy, living a life some people can only dream of.
"She wasn't what I expected," the Scribe said later.
"Really, why's that?" I asked.
"Because, she was even better. I never thought a princess would want to hug a nobody like me. Maybe it's because I'm not a nobody, not really."
I nodded and wiped a tear from my own eye. "She hugged you because you're special, and special people, they know how to find each other."