Who loves a good wedding?

Today I attended the wedding of an old neighbour and primary school mate at the Auckland Baptist Tabernacle. To be honest, I hadn’t seen her for at least 30 years and as my mother and hers keep in touch I was invited to the wedding along with mum. I’m really glad I went. It was fabulous to be witness to the whole ceremony, the sheer happiness and joy that radiated from the bride, the pride and love that was bestowed upon her by the groom, everything. I remembered how much I love to sing hymns and how it really doesn’t matter how well or how badly you sing, no one really cares. I also came to the conclusion that I really don’t like bongo drums in church. Somehow, for me, it detracts from the sanctity of the whole atmosphere. That said, I’m probably alone in my traditional views and I don’t mind that. To each their own.

The highlight of the day was definitely the service filled with the rich humour and joy of two people deeply in love and pledging their love for one another before family, friends, colleagues and old neighbours.

The lowlight? Strangely enough it wasn’t the bongo drums, nor the smell of soup cooking that permeated the church and pretty much bit you on the nose as you arrived, nor was it the narrow sagging old theatre style fold down seats on the ground floor of the church. No, it was the itinerant glue sniffer who wanted to be a part of the group photo on the steps of the Tabernacle after the wedding. He reminded me that for each of us who are lucky enough to love and be loved in return, there are many more who aren’t.

Today I count my blessings.