by Jerry Eicher
“You are making a scene,” Esther said. “Don’t be so dramatic. This was inevitable.”
Mary ignored them to hug Mam, and they wept on each other’s shoulders. Her wedding dress would have tears stains, but they would dry by the time Marcus arrived from the place he was staying down the road. Tonight she would be with him as his wife. Mary let go of Mam, and Phoebe was already fanning her shoulder, while Esther sopped the wet spot with a Kleenex. She would be married today. There was nothing like actually arriving at your wedding day. Anticipation was one thing, but this was the day.
“Stop crying,” Phoebe ordered. “No more tears.”
Mam wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. I was a little overcome.”
“I love you, Mam,” Mary whispered.
“Stop it,” all three of her sisters ordered together. “Both of you can cry at the ceremony, not now.”
But they wouldn’t, Mary knew. There would be only happiness in a few hours when she said the sacred wedding vows with Marcus Yoder.
Marcus sat on the straight-back chair in the old pole barn, its rafters swept clean of spiderwebs and any fleck of dirt that he could see. The Wagler family had pulled out every stop in the wedding preparations for their youngest daughter.
A few familiar faces surrounded him as Bishop Mullet from his home community wound down the closing sermon. Mary had agreed at once when he suggested they ask Bishop Mullet to make the trip up from southern Ohio and perform the ceremony.
Mam was seated in the women’s section, glowing with happiness. His siblings were in the crowd somewhere out of his sight, but they were here. Mary was in front of him, with her two attendants, wearing a light blue wedding dress. He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of her since this morning when he arrived at the Wagler home, just as the sun was coming up over the horizon. The world had seemed to rejoice with him, cheering him onward in the new life he would begin with Mary by his side.
Mary had been in the house surrounded by her three sisters, who looked suspiciously at him, even though they were smiling. But everyone in this community had welcomed him with open arms when Mary brought him home last year for the Christmas holidays. He almost wished they were planning to live here after the wedding, instead of the farm in southern Ohio. But he belonged in his home community, and Mary had become a part of the place after one year of teaching. She had charmed everyone’s hearts, and his most of all.
Marcus forced himself to focus on Bishop Mullet’s preaching. He hadn’t heard a word yet, and had absorbed little of the opening sermon with his attention completely captured by Mary’s beauty.
“Marriage is of the Lord,” Bishop Mullet was saying in his usual slow, thoughtful manner. “Though the sands of time have crept along for a thousand years, the Word of the Lord remains, one man and one woman who love each other, and are joined together hand in hand to walk through life as one. This is the beauty of what the Lord has done. We cannot, and will not, improve upon the work of the Lord. There are some who are asked to walk through life alone, but even they have the community to support them. Most of us are given the great gift of a partner to love and to honor, and to hold with all of our heart.”
Bishop Mullet turned his attention from the congregation to look straight at Marcus and Mary. “If this couple still wishes to join their lives together in holy matrimony, the time has come to say the vows, so let them stand as a witness to their hearts’ wish.”
Marcus felt like leaping to his feet, but he stood slowly, and Mary was doing likewise, following his lead. Mary stepped across the distance between them into a stream of light that was playing across the hardwood floor. The lower part of her dress was caught in the brilliance and shimmered brightly as Mary stood by his side in front of Bishop Mullet.
Marcus couldn’t keep a smile off his face as he lifted his gaze to answer Bishop Mullet’s first question.
“Do you believe, Brother Marcus Yoder, that the Lord has given you this sister, Mary Wagler, to you, as your lawful wedded wife?”
“Yah,” he said firmly.
Mary said yah to her question, and Bishop Mullet continued.
When the bishop finished, he reached for their hands and placed them together, “I join you,” he said, “in the name of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, as husband and wife. What God joined together, let no man tear apart.”
Mary was smiling up at him. She wanted him to kiss her in front of everyone, but Amish men didn’t kiss their wives in public.
His wife, he thought. Mary was his wife. He let go of her hand and they seated themselves again. The last song number was given out, and the singing began. He snuck a glance at Mary, who was still smiling, the lower corner of her dress caught in the ray of sunlight. She had never looked more beautiful to him.
