It isn't easy to pick the best memory that came out of our wedding day, two years ago today. There's the one about the impromptu "Party Bus" that provided the stage (literally) for the afterparty; the flying snot monster I accidentally blew out of my nose while trying to hold back tears during my thank you speech at the rehearsal dinner - that's worth mentioning too; and I also like the one about the small group of out-of-town wedding guests that found themselves skinny-dipping in a lake (quite far from the wedding site) at three-thirty in the morning.
But of all the memories from that day that I like to think back on to conjure up some 07.21.07 magic, there is one little tale that stands out for me.....
Before we officially booked the date for our wedding one year in advance, I checked the weather history - or more accurately, the precipitation history - for every July 21st since 1998. On that day in Victoria, BC, there hadn't been a speck of rain in nineteen years. This was good news, considering our plans involved an entirely outdoor event.
And then, about 3 weeks before the wedding, I started checking the long range forecast. It wasn't looking so good. In fact, the week of the big day it poured rain harder than it had in a Victoria summer in years. It felt like November and I was a ball of nerves.
Enter, ironically, the nuns....
My friend Ivan, who was also my boss at the time, is from the city of San Luis Potosí in Mexico. Everyday at work I would express my growing concern for the weekend forecast. So Ivan got an idea. He knew just what to do.
"I have a cousin," he said. "She'll take some eggs to the nuns. They'll pray for sunshine."
Ivan explained that there is a place in Mexico called the Santa Clara Orphanage. The orphanage funds itself through the sale of wedding cakes made by the nuns who run it. Eggs, being an integral part of the recipe, are very expensive in Mexico, so the Santa Clara sisters offer the power or prayer in exchange for this necessary ingredient.
I'm not what you'd call a religious person, but I'll admit to being moved nearly to tears at the thought of Ivan's cousin in Mexico carting a dozen eggs to the orphanage, offering them to the nuns and putting in a request that they do some bargaining with The Boss so that the sun might shine for Scott and Sarah somewhere up in Canada on their wedding day.
In the end, it rained anyway, and it didn't even matter. The sentiment meant more to me than any unexpected weather system. I bet those eggs made one fine cake. And when the day drew even closer and it still wasn't looking good that the sun would come out, I'll never forget Ivan reassuring me....
"I sent another dozen."