It was dress-up time again at a children’s retreat for Quaker children. For the fourth or fifth time running the “wedding” was on for one-fourth grader and her ever so carefully chosen staffer-spouse. The wedding party was assembling, with ushers, bridesmaids, groomsmen and preacher, complete with robes, even something that looked like a Bible or something official. Dixie cups jammed with dandelions adorned the aisle. There was confetti, everywhere, and everyone was taking their seat. It was a wedding to remember.
Maybe he had cold feet or was worried about appearances, the child’s emotional well-being, or possible attachment issues or what they taught him years ago in seminary. It was, after all, his fourth time at the altar of holy matrimony in less than two years!
So when the wedding hour was fast approaching he tried to let her down gracefully, suggesting a short list of other people…children, or other staff as eligible suitors. But she was not buying a word of his attempts to slip away. He sensed that she was serious about this. He also did not want to disappoint. And for a man who was supposed to be in charge of everything that weekend, he was nervous and unsettled, too.
She, summing things up, said, “No Kevin. I want to marry you. It’s okay.”
“Besides,” she said, “It’s pretend.”