The
young couple had known each other for years and it only seemed natural
when their close friendship evolved into a romantic relationship. In
the six months since they'd become formally engaged, they had been busy
making plans for their wedding. Fortunately they had agreed on most of
the important aspects of the wedding ceremony. The only thing they
found they needed to negotiate was who should perform the ceremony
itself. They finally agreed to have the ceremony in the church where
her family had worshiped for generations, officiated by her family
minister. His long-time clerical advisor would assist with the ceremony
and give a short speech at the rehearsal dinner.
The six
months of their engagement passed quickly although the last week before
the ceremony had seemed long and hectic. By the evening of the
rehearsal dinner, all the details were finalized, all of the wedding
party was present, and the rehearsal had proceeded smoothly. The
rehearsal dinner was a happy affair, serving as a reunion of family and
friends as well as the last chance to relax before the big day. As they
were finishing dessert, a tall, stately gentleman in clerical garb
stood up at the head table and tapped his water glass for attention.
"I
must warn you, our betrothed couple may regret asking me to speak
tonight. I'm renowned for being long-winded." He paused to allow for
the polite laughter he knew he'd receive. "But I have a story I must
share with you."
He cleared his throat before continuing.
"I've had the privilege of performing countless marriage ceremonies. I
wish I could say that I remember each couple and know exactly how many
children they have and where they are today. Sadly, I cannot. But,
there are a few that I will never forget because I was so impressed by
their love and sincerity.
"About thirty years ago, I was
approached by one such couple. They were young, but impressed me in
their devotion to God and to each other. Despite their youth, I agreed
to marry them once the young woman was of legal age; which I did. Less
than a year later I had the honor of baptizing their son." He looked
down at the man sitting beside him and smiled warmly. "Over time I
watched them mature and shared their joy in their love of God, of their
son, and for each other.
"Eight years after the birth of
their son, I had the sad responsibility of saying mass at the funeral
of that young man. Throughout that ordeal I was impressed with the
devotion and determination of a young widow to make a good life for
herself and her son. She turned to me for spiritual support from time
to time over the next few years, proving again and again her strength
and determination to provide a loving home for her son. I also watched
as he thrived in her caring environment.
"It was only a few
years after that young man's funeral that his widow came to me with
another sad request. She had just learned that she was terminally ill.
She was not concerned about her own welfare because she believed that
she was being called home, to be with her husband. But she was
profoundly worried about the welfare of her son." The speaker paused
and watched the young man beside him as his hand was grasped by the
woman sitting on his other side. "Having been orphaned herself and
raised in a series of foster homes and institutions, she was determined
that her son not be destined to the same fate. She asked me to assist
in finding her two brothers although she was clueless as to their
whereabouts.
"Do you have any idea how many Sean or William
Regans there are in this state, much less the entire country?" He
paused as the diners laughed. "I managed to locate one brother through
military records, but found that he was deceased. I traced the other
brother through the child welfare system to the Saratoga area, but then
he seemed to disappear. Often I lost faith in ever finding him, but
young Patty's faith never wavered." The speaker paused again, taking
several sips from his water glass and patting his neighbor on the
shoulder before continuing.
"Upon Patty's death, her son's
grief understandably turned to anger. Anger at his fate, anger at a
system that placed him in an uncaring foster home, and, especially,
anger at me for failing to follow through on a promise made to his
dying mother. Seeing his suffering caused me to resolve to find William
Patrick Regan.
"I'd learned he had once worked with horses
and began contacting private stables, race tracks, and horse farms to
see if anyone knew him; with no success. It was only by a strange
coincidence that I found Bill Regan.
"One weekend on an
afternoon drive through the Hudson River Valley I had a flat tire. I
pulled into a parking lot and checked in the trunk for the spare. There
was none. There were my flares, jack, tool kit, jumper cables and all
the other things I am so careful to keep for emergencies, but no spare.
Furious with whoever had removed the tire, I went into the store and
asked to use the phone. When I finished making my call, I noticed for
the first time I was in a tack shop and on impulse asked if they knew
of a William or Bill Regan."
" 'Bill Regan?' The clerk's eyes
lit up. 'Why Bill's the best horseman in Westchester County.' I could
barely contain my excitement. I'd searched from New York to Maryland to
Kentucky to Montana, and Bill Regan had been less than thirty miles
away all along.
"Most of you know the rest of the story." He
paused as his audience nodded and mumbled their assent. "I was able to
find young Dan's uncle and help him gain custody of a frightened and
angry young man. Bill gave Dan his understanding, patience, and love,
and Dan learned to accept and return love once again."
Smiling
broadly, he continued. "Dan and I have stayed close over the years.
I've watched him mature into someone who would make both his parents
proud. He may look like his father, but he favors both parents in his
intellect, moral character and strong determination. At times I've been
his counsel and confidant, but mostly I've been honored with his
friendship. I cannot express in words the pride and joy I feel today;
seeing this bright and talented young man sitting here, preparing to
share his life with a wonderful young woman."
Raising his
glass in one hand, he motioned for everyone to stand with the other.
"So, I ask all of you to join me in toasting Dan and Trixie and in
wishing them all the happiness they so richly deserve." DISCLAIMER:
Trixie BeldenŽ is the registered, copyrighted property of Random House
Publishing, as are most of the characters in this story (except Father
McMurtrie). I am only borrowing their use. This story is written only
for entertainment and I do not intend to profit financially from it in
any way.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is another short story created
with no real beginning or end but with the intention of being a part of
the BobWhite Trilogy or some other long story some day. My writing has
been sort of like a connect the dot picture. I've created a lot of dots
but need to draw the lines. This story is one of those dots. |
