 |
PatchWork by Joyce Whitis |
|
PatchWork by Joyce Whitis |
The swearing in ceremony for county officials had just finished. We were spending some time in the district courtroom congratulating those who had won in the November election, and visiting with new members of the Commissioners Court, the Justice of the Peace, and others. After witnessing a bevy of picture taking by friends and family, we left by the north door of the Court House Annex and walked across College Street to the spot where we had left our car in the off-the-street parking slot adjacent to the courthouse.
Just as we were getting into our car, a pickup came dashing around the corner, wheeled into the parking area and stopped. A young man in jeans, dark shirt and cowboy hat, jumped from the pickup, crossed the space between parking spot and the south doors of the courthouse, tried the door, and then, with both hands shading his face, peered for a minute through the glass part of the locked doors, then turned and raced back toward his parked pickup.
We observed all of this as we backed from our parking place. It was evident that the young man was in some sort of agitation at finding the courthouse locked on New Year's Day. Slowly we drove up beside the pickup, lowered a window and asked, "Can we help you find somebody?"
The young man jumped like he'd been shot from behind and in one motion turned toward our car, "Oh Lordy," he stammered, "Are you a Justice of the Peace?"
"No," we told him, but we know where to find one!"
Then we explained that the new JP, just sworn in moments before, was in the court house annex. "If you go in that door over there," we told him, motioning toward the entrance facing us, "go down that hall all the way to end, and take a sharp right, you'll see her and some other folks just standing around talking."
The young man was so excited, he reached a trembling hand through the opened car window and grasped my hand. "Oh thank you, thank you," he said. "We were supposed to be married today and I thought we'd been stood up."
We drove away slowly, watching in the rear view mirror as the nervous young man helped a beautiful young lady all dressed in white, exit from the passenger side of the pickup. We left with a smile.
The young couple was crossing College Street toward the Annex when we turned the corner toward home. Later we read in the paper that the newly sworn Justice of the Peace began a busy day by performing a marriage at 10:00 o'clock on January 1st, after taking over her duties from Sara Miller at 9:00.
As we read the paper, we couldn't help but think......what if.....?
What if we had parked on the back parking lot like everyone else, instead of over by the courthouse? Ours was the only car parked on that side of the Annex.
What if we had just stayed at home that morning instead of driving in from the country to witness the ceremony?
What if we had just watched the ceremony and then gone on home instead of standing around and visiting with everybody?
What if we had just stared at the young man who tried to get in the courthouse but was locked out, thought that he ought to know the courthouse would be locked on New Year's Day, shrugged and driven off?
What if the young couple, disappointed at not finding someone to perform their ceremony, had just never got married?
Some would say that there was a glitch in time that brought it all about. They would say that "fate" caused all our lives to come together for that one brief moment. Backing off for a second look, the scene is played out like a movie in slow motion. The groom and his bride-to-be arrived at exactly the right time to meet someone who could steer them toward the door they had already selected. For a split second in life's time sequence, strangers met, connected, and parted. In the lives of us all, such moments come in an instant and then are gone, leaving us with wonder.
We don't know the name of that young couple but we wish them the very best of everything in a life that is largely filled with chance.