September, 2005 - Nr. 9
Weddings and New Beginnings
Once upon a summer day in August, Rebecca Szauter, the
eldest Forget-me-not girl was married. What a big event for our family! Let
me tell you the story of how it all began.
When we were younger, we used to visit the cottage belonging to very old friends of my family---the Rohner’s. The hard-working Erwin and his sweet wife, Linde had seven children who were mostly a bit older than us---and loads of fun! When we weren’t playing piggy back tag or arranging sticks and grass in Stefan’s curly hair, we girls used to pile onto their big red-and-yellow double swing with whatever Rohner kids could fit. The rest would hang off the sides. We’d spend hours there on that swing, talking and laughing! One summer, a clothes peg war began on one such swing social. We girls quietly and secretly clipped as many clothes pegs on to the back of Markus’ t-shirt until he noticed the secret attack and would get his revenge on whichever of us he caught red-handed. We flicked pegs at each other and on and on the battle raged. The fray ended with broken clothes pegs and someone thrown into the lake. The Rohner kids, especially the boys, were extremely humorous rascals!
![The famous red-and-yellow swing [photo: Szauter Family]](509c-Rachel.jpg)
It was during these happy summer weekends that Rebecca and Markus Rohner grew to like each other especially. But Rebecca was young and deeply involved with her family music group, the Forget-me-nots, performing as often as every weekend. Years passed with hurdles and challenges along the road. Despite these, Markus and Rebecca grew closer ---it became obvious that they were a perfect match.
Last autumn, Markus asked Rebecca if she would mind driving all the way up to the cottage with him to pick up a stove. When they arrived, the red-and-yellow swing, the place where everything began, was lit up with lights and candles.
There on the swing, he proposed to her.
(She said yes.)
Saturday, August 27th, 2005
Our house was buzzing with action, ladies were baking, the guys were setting up chairs, guests were arriving, Lorie, the wedding planner (and mother-of-the-bride) was everywhere at once. I watched from the window with curlers in my hair. (Bridesmaids aren’t supposed to be seen.) We scurried around the upstairs floor passing cans of hairspray and red nail polish or delivering messages of the progress downstairs. As 3:00 drew near we girls crowded into Rebecca’s room to put our glossy red dresses on together and to watch as Rebecca transformed into a beautiful bride.
From
the bride’s room we could hear the quartet music playing outside. Excitement
jumped around inside me---we were ready to go! We six bridesmaids (Rebecca’s
two sisters, two of our childhood forget-me-not friends, a cousin and I)
hustled down the stairs to the walk-out basement door.
With
our kali lily bouquets in hand (and a curious sense that "this is different
than any other performance we have ever done") ---we gathered excitedly and
nervously behind a bunch of trees. The guests were waiting, the six handsome
groomsmen (all of Markus’ brothers and a couple friends) were in their line,
the 4 small flower girls and cute little boys
were
happily squirming in their seats already. With accustomed calm, Annie
Hudson, our folk dance teacher was there in perfect time to quietly direct
us so that our spacing would be just right. We walked, in that slow wedding
way, down to the alter that stood below the
lone
elm tree on our lawn.
Markus glowed with joy as his bride came down the aisle on
the arm of her misty-eyed father----the
quartet’s Vivaldi music playing. (I
must
say a more smashing bride I have yet to see!) The father of the bride gave
Rebecca’s hand to Markus and the ceremony began. Our pastor friend from
Virginia, Randy Powers shared a good message on the meaning of marriage. The
bride and gr
oom
exchanged vows and the sky sprinkled some "holy water" on us all. Wind
tossed our hair and caught Rebecca’s veil as she and the groom signed the
wedding papers to the sound of our family choir singing a
couple
of Austrian love songs. It was an emotional service, as you can well
imagine. Rebecca, the eldest girl in our tight-knit family was getting
married! The groom kissed his bride and the ceremony wa
s
over with applauds, congratulations, hugs ‘n’ kisses. The guests whisked off
to a little local hall where they were serenaded by the quartet and offered
yummy hors’ dourves as they waited
for
us. Meanwhile, it was picture time for the bridal party--- dozens of cameras
took a thousand photos, I’m sure. A Limo took us to the magically decorated
reception hall where we enjoyed a delicious meal. Our troop of waiters
was
made up of good friends and neighbours. I thought it was extra special that,
since they were personal friends and not just nameless black-and-white-clad
servers, I could squeal, "
THANKS
Barbie!" on the arrival of my dinner instead of behaving all calm and cool
as one normally does. Our waiters and kitchen staff were overwhelmed with
blown fuses, oven shut-downs and one dry well and still we enjoyed
service with
a
great big smile!
The night was full of fun music (provided by our friend Mike
Nemeth), dancing, tearful speeches and funny slideshows of pictures from the
past. Throughout the festivities, children and bunches of adults tried to
get the
bride
and groom to kiss by tossing clothes pegs into pails. The clothes peg theme
sparked that old rascal side in the Rohner boys that I haven’t seen in years
since we’ve all grown up. (A little clothes peg war broke out on the dance
floor too!) What a special night for us—it was like a great big family
reunion! When the clock stru
ck
midnight, Markus and Rebecca bid their goodbyes, climbed into their red
magnum complete with "Just Married" sign and those essential tin cans
clanging from the bumper, and drove off to an unknown destination.
Rebecca’s
wedding celebration seemed to be the opening ceremonies for a new era in all
our lives. We are growing up. Most of us are going to university or college
studying everything from cooking to music to mechanics. It may seem to you
that our Forget-me-not musical life, the way it had been for 11 years, has
come to a close. But I can assure you that the treasure of music and our
heritage only slumbers in our souls—it will never die. It will grow into
something new.
Rachel A. I. Seilern
Comments to: rachel@echoworld.com
