So there I was, in the middle of a little Filipino village wedding, posing in pictures. Shaking hands and kissing babies, doing my Missionary Mel thing. The food was good, and the company was great! Seriously, it was so beautiful.
I was feeling joyful and pretty, a rare combination on this World Race; typically it’s usually one or the other doing this kind of work. I’m either joyful and covered in sweat, little kid germs and dirt or feeling clean and fresh for all of about 10 minutes before getting stinky again. I try to primp up and remember that I’m feminine but on most occasions it’s a Buff rag on my head and a t-shirt.
I had on a peasant-style magenta skirt – it felt fabulous to have something ruffled at my ankles just like in my folklorico dancing days. (Which I totally miss!) A nice black knit top cinched with a magenta belt and beautiful sparkly sandals. I rocked my curls out with a little gel and let the humidity be my friend today. The Latina could not be suppressed for this celebration, not at all – so the chandelier earrings came out for some fun too. Spritz on that amazing body spray and pray that the mosquitoes don’t eat me alive first thing in the morning and be off to the party! Brown and beautiful.
It felt so good to feel so cute.
Being a special visitor and looking the part for a very special celebration came to beautiful fruition. It was glorious!
This next part is what cracks me up the most, considering I just posted about being single and being asked all the time.
This time was different.
I was asked as soon as I set foot in the home. Even the pastor inquired. Apparently, it’s just the culture. Everyone pondered my plight and then wondered if maybe I’d marry a Filipino.
I’d shake my head ‘no’ and smile politely. I’d leave it at that…until…
My little friend grabbed me by the hand and giggled, “Ate Imelda…come now, she will throw the bouquet.”
Oh sheesh…honestly, I NEVER catch these things.
Like I said, today was a special day.
The girls lined up and stuck me right up front. Surely, it’d pass over my head. The bride launched her simple bouquet up into the air. For the fun of it, I leaped up high and dove forward in an actual effort to go for it.
I plucked that bouquet out of a blue, rainforest sky, gripped it as I came down on both knees and hit a mud puddle rolling. Everyone laughed, as I did a dive roll and popped up to my feet with my prize in hand. Today, I grinned as I posed with the bride.
It finally happened for me. It was my turn at last!
Someone asked who the lucky man would be, and I said: “I dunno…he’s nowhere in sight, so I’m going to walk by faith.”
The young girls giggled and excitedly proclaimed that surely I’d marry a Filipino…
…which meant one thing: it was time to make my exit and politely offer my thanks and say good-bye!
Then Jesus and I just smirked and laughed about it.
