She is the center of attention today, the bride-to-be, opening gifts at a wedding shower.  She is tall and blonde, fine featured with a sweet smile and a pleasing demeanor.  She is my daughter, and my heart swells with happiness for her. 

I sit nearby and watch Karen’s slender hands undo ribbons and wrapping paper, and the years tunnel backwards.  I see a tiny infant placed in my arms, and I feel again the overwhelming emotion, which only a mother experiences.  I look down at this sweet bundle I am embracing, and a prayer of thanksgiving rises from within me.  Tears rise, unbidden, and I draw her even closer to my breast.  She is my fourth child but only the second one that will grow and thrive.  

I watch as Karen removes a pewter wine cooler from its box, hear the “oohs” and “ahhs” of the guests as she holds it out for all to see.  I move back mentally through the years once more and see a curly-haired child, sitting in a corner, face to face with a large Golden Retriever.  “Rusty, what are we going to do today?”  She questions the dog as only a three-year-old can.  Rusty cocks his head, then inches closer and lays his head in her lap.  Karen promptly leans over, plants a kiss on him and wraps her arms around this faithful companion.  I hear a sweet sigh, and I am not certain if it comes from child or dog, or perhaps it is both, for they are so in tune with one another.  

My mind returns to the bridal shower,  as we are asked to come to the dessert table. I follow my daughter to the beautiful display of china and silver, a magnificent floral centerpiece and a dessert that looks so scrumptious there is no way I can turn it down.  As we eat, I spiral backwards once again. I am reminded of the many food allergies she had as a child, as well as sensitivities to dust and trees and cats.  The hospital emergency room becomes a familiar place. She is tested for many allergens, and I feel each prick on her soft baby skin.  Desensitizing shots are given weekly in our doctor’s office.  Finally, there are no more shots, and she is able to eat everything. I close the shades in my mind and savor another bite of dessert. 

It is time to gather the many lovely gifts Karen has received today and load the car.  She is eager to show them to Steve, the man she is to marry soon. An old cliché, “Head over heels in love,” is the only way to describe these two.  Or maybe, “meant for each other.”  Another picture pops up from my memory bank.  I see a high school senior who visits her boyfriend twice a week at the city jail--a teenager who professes her undying love for a boy who is basically a good kid but has drifted off the path one too many times.  

“I’ll wait for him forever,” she declares, anger flashing in her eyes.  I pray a lot during this period, and I tell myself that time will take care of the situation.  God hears my fervent prayer, and He answers.  Karen moves on with her life as this first love cools, and her father and I breathe a sigh of relief.  

College and a career fill the next ten years.  She always has a boyfriend, but he is never Mr. Right.  Once more, I speak to God about my youngest child.  “Help her find a man she can love, one who loves her and will be good to her,” I ask again and again.  He hears this mother’s prayer, and Steve becomes a part of Karen's life.  

In a few weeks Karen will walk down the aisle with her proud and beaming father.  He will present her to Steve and come to sit with me.  We will hold hands and watch as this special girl becomes a wife.  My prayer that day will be one of thanksgiving.  

I am jolted back to the present as we get into the car, and Karen turns to me and says, “Mom, you look like you’re a million miles away.”  

“Who me?” I answer.  I smile at her but keep my memories to myself … my own precious treasure. 

Previously published in Storytime Tapestry. 

Author's Biography

Nancy Julien Kopp's writing reflects both her growing-up years in Chicago and many years of living in the Flint Hills of Kansas. 

She has published stories, articles, essays, children's stories and poetry in magazines, newspapers, and online over the past ten years. 

She is a former teacher who still enjoys teaching via the written word.

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