“She says it was the happiest day of her life,” she thought to herself. Her glistening gown was bright enough to be made of clouds. The sheer veil draped over her, covering her bright eyes and pale face. She glanced at the fading cream-colored photograph next to her bed.
“She doesn’t seem very scared,” she pitied herself for her fear. She stared at that photograph as if trying to draw strength from it. The feel of a comforting hand on her shoulder made her jump a little. She looked down at her mothers ivory fingernails and clear diamond ring. Oh how she admired her bravery.
Nothing was said as she let herself be guided to the doorway. As she walked down the aisle the petals of roses that were the color of snow fell lightly around her as she made her way to the altar. The weight of her mother’s pearls around her neck reminded her of the strength she had given her, and kept her from turning back. When the time was right she would look into his eyes and say with truth as pure as the suns white light.