Wedding Bells
![Image](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguv8vaEpg_T5n485AVgCFhUr-d8x-5RendQC_eA-68SCn1GElPHCyEzGq4kjC-XdXSiRqUjTZVkOVi8p3u-ib16a9CddqCWID9M0UuDWzWyeQtz5OpiuzY-4LAlvgT-aqSGN8K1xr0JNY/s200/bells.jpg)
I've not written for a very long time. I say I'll start again, and then I don't. This morning I saw a random picture. The caption said prom pictures - the picture an innocent looking girl. Something stirred as I looked at that picture in seconds, this is what poured out of me: She is sixteen; she is a child. She wears a satin dress. She longs for love. She holds her daddy’s hand as she did as a child in Brooklyn. She walks with him as so many strolls in a park lined with trees. She feels the exhilaration of a push on a swing that takes her high, higher than the sky. She feels the fear of climbing to the top of the monkey bars. She hears music – it reminds her of the tune announcing the Mr. Softee truck – a treat awaits. She hears music – it reminds her of Salem where she learned about Jesus. A future awaits her. Someone has chosen her; she must finally be worthy. She is finally wanted. Her daddy hands her to the boy at the end of aisle.