I was raised by my uncle and my aunt. In my family they are called « Tia  and « Tio  by the nieces and nephews. Well, my Tio is a preacher and usually I don’t like to let people know that. I hate when they call me a preacher’s kid. On August 08, 2002 I was thrilled about the fact that my Tio was a preacher. Why? He was going to perform my wedding ceremony.

As I looked through the glass window of the cry room out into the church, everything seemed ready. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Lining the pews were yards and yards of soft satin ribbon with bows of blue and bouquets of white orchids. Awaiting at the front of the room was an archway covered in greenery and more orchids. The touch I had dreamed about since I could dream, was there. Hundreds of whisperingly lit candles set off a romantic glow to the usually plain and normal church.

My Tia had tried so hard to make today perfect for me. When I had announced I was getting married, everyone had warned that the planning would be a disaster. They said that my Tia and I would disagree on everything. They promised I would wish I had eloped by the time it was all done. However, from the first mention of wedding bells to the last shower given, we had just had loads of fun. Though I was overjoyed the day was finally here, I was a little gloomy about the fact that it would soon be over. I know that the fun we had shared was unique and I wasn’t ready to end it.

 » No, no tears. I’m not going to cry,: I said out loud to myself as I tried to brush off the sad thoughts.

I peeked out from the window and spotted my Tio giving something to my Tia. I began to wonder what it was. It looked like a bible but it was his regular Sunday one. I knew he was going to do something I didn’t know about.