Three flower girls, clad in beautiful dresses, sprinkled pastel-shaded flower petals along the path the bride was about to take. A six year old girl sitting behind my husband and I watched the girls with a smidge of envy. “Why couldn’t I be a flower girl?” she whispered to her mom. Her mom shushed her and said to get ready. The bride, Lauren, was about to make her entrance. The little girl looked to the back of the room expectantly just as all in attendance rose to their feet.
Lauren looked like a Disney princess. Her thick blond hair, decorated with pearls, fell in waves to her waist, and her bridal gown flowed like liquid silk. As Lauren walked towards the minister, the groom, and his groomsmen, the little girl once again whispered to her mom. “Does she pick the one she wants, now?” I could hear her mom stifle a giggle. “No, honey. She’s already picked the one she wants.”
The innocence and romance of childhood…it was the best part of my day.
