Step by Step with Joy

The organ began to play. The guests stood and eagerly turned to face the back of the church as the bride came into view. She looked beautiful.Her exquisite floor-length strapless gown fell to the floor as its silk panels elegantly shaped her slender figure. Her transparent veil enveloped her as it flowed from her perfectly coiffed hair down to her bare shoulders then gracefully descended to lie in gentle folds at the hem of her gown. Concealed were the prostheses that enabled her to stand and walk and the designer sneakers that she chose to wear under her wedding gown for fit and balance. The presenter of the bride was her four-year-old son looking debonair and ever so grown up in a miniature black tuxedo that matched the groom’s. His dark brown hair was neatly styled to manage his beautiful but unruly curls. His feet, in rented shiny black shoes, shuffled eagerly displaying the excitement this young boy was feeling. After all, today was a very important day for him too. He was getting a new Daddy who loved him and was committed to caring and providing for him. Now, as the music signaled them, the radiant bride and her enthusiastic presenter began the walk down the aisle hand in hand. The groom, even more handsome than usual in his black tuxedo, was awaiting them. Tall with dark freshly trimmed hair, his face beamed with love for his bride and new son. This special man was specifically chosen for them; there was no doubt. Only God could have placed this man in their lives the way He did to bring about this happy beginning. Now, every eye was on the bride as she miraculously glided down the aisle in graceful motion. Friends and family in attendance marveled that she was actually walking… and down the aisle at that! Tears streamed down many faces as they remembered her as the six-year-old girl who contracted a rare and life-threatening case of chicken pox, lost both her legs and was never expected to walk again. Even more poignant to one guest was the memory of this little girl who wondered after seeing her amputated legs, “But who will marry me?” And, now, we all knew the answer to that question. As mother of the bride, with the planning and preparation finally behind me, I could now relax and reflect on the events that led to this exciting day. Even at this moment while I stood, anticipating my daughter’s every movement to Richard Wagner’s famous “Wedding March”, my thoughts went back to a time when this day seemed to be only a dream a mother has for her daughter.and built a house with a hairstyling salon on the lower level so I could open my own salon. Our daughter, Tina, was two years old. I hired a wonderful woman who cared for her upstairs in our home while I worked downstairs. Tina often visited with the clients, and they would often arrive for their appointments with some little treat or gift that made Tina feel very special. Working in the same building as my home was a great way for me to work. I was “home” with my daughter yet had my own business and interesting clients and stimulating conversation filling my life. Although it was a very small business, I really enjoyed being my own boss. In 1975 our second daughter, Joy, was born. She was an easy baby who was pleasant and whose routine care was not unusually demanding. Within the first year of her birth, I began looking into opening a chain of hairstyling salons. With this in mind, I planned to move the salon out of our home and into a shopping center a few miles away, in facing a busy highway. My husband and I had big dreams and plans, but no money to hire contractors. Therefore, once Ken and I signed the lease on the building where the new salon was to be located, we immediately began working to make the space suitable for a hair salon. Ken and I would put in our regular full workday and then go to the new salon location at night to put up walls, paint, and get the plumbing and electrical ready for the salon to open. Ken was extremely talented in all areas of construction. My parents would also come every evening to work into the wee hours of the morning to help do whatever they could. After a few months of hard work, we moved the salon out of our house and into the shopping center. In 1978, Ken and I.