Free Chicken Soup for the Bride's Soul by Jack Canfield Page B

dress simply could not be altered because of numerous hand-sewn pearls and sequins on the bodice. I called the boutique for suggestions but only got their answering machine.
    A friend gave me the number of a lady across town who worked at home doing alterations. I was desperate and willing to try anything, so I decided to give her a call.
    When I arrived at her modest white house on the outskirts of town, she carefully inspected my dress and asked me to try it on. She put a handful of pins into the shoulders and sides of my gown and told me to pick it up in two days. She was the answer to my prayers.
    When the time came to pick it up, however, I grew skeptical. How could I have been so foolish as to just leave a $1,200 wedding dress in the hands of someone I barely knew? What if she made a mess out of it? I had no idea if she could even sew on a button.
    Thank goodness my fears were all for naught. The dress still looked exactly the same, but it now fit as if it had been made especially for me. I thanked the cheerful lady and paid her modest fee.
    One small problem solved just in time for a bigger one to emerge. On Valentine’s Day, my fiancé called.
    “Sandy, I’ve come to the decision that I’m not ready to get married,” he announced, none too gently. “I want to travel and experience life for a few years before settling down.”
    He apologized for the inconvenience of leaving all the wedding cancellations to me and then quickly left town.
    My world turned upside down. I was angry and heartbroken and had no idea how to recover. But days flew into weeks and weeks blended into months. I survived.
    One day in the fall of the same year, while standing in line at the supermarket, I heard someone calling my name. I turned around to see the alterations lady. She politely inquired about my wedding, and was shocked to discover it had been called off, but agreed it was probably for the best.
    I thanked her again for adjusting my wedding gown, and assured her it was safely bagged and awaiting the day I would wear it down the aisle on the arm of my real “Mister Right.” With a sparkle in her eye, she began telling me about her single son, Tim. Even though I wasn’t interested in dating again, I let her talk me into meeting him.
    I did have my summer wedding after all, only a year later. And I did get to wear the dress of my dreams— standing beside Tim, the man I have shared the last eighteen years of my life with, whom I would never have met without that special wedding gown.
    Sandy Williams Driver

Keepin’ the Faith
    H ope deferred makes the heart sick; but when dreams come true at last, there is life and joy.
    Prov. 13
    I always thought of the bridal gown as an extension of the bride.
    It declares what kind of woman she is. It should knock the socks off of her groom, dazzle the audience and make the bride feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. It has to be perfect.
    The dress shopping was to be all about me, the bride. After all, it was going to be my big day. However, I found that while I focused on myself, the strain blinded me from a bigger reality.
    At first, the hunt was exciting. I spent hours trying on different styles. But as time wore on, nothing seemed right. No dress measured up. Could I settle for second best? The threatening thought nearly brought me to tears.
    One Saturday afternoon, my mom asked if I wanted to shop. By this time, I was so disenchanted I wanted to stay home. Nevertheless, I went.
    A bride on a budget, I dutifully stayed away from the more expensive, designer boutiques. Yet, we decided to enter one particular shop and look for sales. I chose three dresses. The first two were unsuitable. Donning the third, I walked out of the dressing room and approached the three-way mirror.
    I blushed. My heart raced. I felt stunning.
    I posed, preened and pranced, all the while picturing myself walking down the aisle. I was beautiful, confident, dazzling. This was The One.
    I dared to look at