Speaking of my sweetpea face (that's him in the above incriminating photo - BOOMER!) he’s on his way to the big D this very minute to pick me up to head to Houston for our first shower. How weird is it that the shower is for me? I’m the one getting married? I think Robert and I both feel this way. Earlier this week he said to me, “wait, we’re going to get presents this weekend?” to which I replied, “yes, honey, it’s a SHOWER.” We are going to be showered with gifts. Speaking of, I’ve been constantly reading all things bridal on the web and came across this: The History of the Bridal Shower. It’s sweet and I thought I’d share….
The History of the Bridal Shower
Once upon a time a young Dutch girl fell in love with a man who had a kind heart and a handsome face, but little in the way of worldly possessions. All who knew him adored him, for he was so good and gentle that whenever he and came upon someone in need, he would always share his meager portion with them.
She loved him for his sweet nature and his great beauty, and did not care that he was only a miller, while she was the daughter of a wealthy and powerful man.
But her father, a wealthy townsman, had already selected a groom for her. When the miller approached him to ask for his daughter's hand in marriage, he flew into a rage and barred the miller from ever laying eyes on his daughter again. The girl was full of gried, for she truly loved the miller, and lover her father also. She pleaded with him. She tried to reason with him. But her father was known throughout their village as an obstinate man, and he refused to see why she would choose a man other than the respectable, well-to-do landowner he had picked out for her.
At night he could hear her crying, but he hardened his resolve and said to himself, “This love that she speaks of will wither with age, but the man I have chosen for her owns land as far as the eye can see, and flocks of sheep with wool as white as the hair on my own head.”
He told his daughter that if she did not listen to him, if she did not marry the groom he had selected, she would be his daughter no longer, and would forfeit any claim to his fortune, including her dowry. “If you go to nothing,” he told her, “you go with nothing.”
But his daughter was wiser than he about the ways of the heart, and knew she would marry the miller who never hesitated to share his bread with the poor. Still, she could not stop crying, not for the loss of her fortune but for the rift that had settled within her small family.
When the townspeople, who revered the miller for his generous spirit, heard of the girl's tears, they gathered to see what they could do. The miller, who had always given to them, needed their help. While they did not have much, they all had something they could contribute to help the young couple start their life together.
They came to the mill in a long procession, all of them bearing gifts and good wishes. The miller could scarcely believe it, but the girl nodded her head sagely. “He who gives everything will never be without,” she whispered, and they thanked the townspeople profusely as a pile of coverlets, porcelain, and cooking utensils grew at their feet.
When the procession of people had tapered, the two were amazed at the bounty their neighbors had shared with them. A party sprung up, and when her father heard the sounds of rejoicing, he came to the mill. When he saw all that the townspeople had done, he felt a great shame. With heavy legs, with outstretched arms, he approached the. His daughter ran to him, and they embraced with great tenderness.
To make up for his coldness, he decided to give the young couple a fine house to live in. To thank the town for showering his daughter and soon to be son-in-law with gifts, he made a magnificent feast in celebration of the marriage, and invited all of the town's inhabitants, young and old and rich and poor alike.
And the bride and groom lived happily ever after
Sigh. I hope that’s a true story, but it’s probably just a fairy tale – it’s sweet though. The miller, the father, the flock of sheep, the caring townspeople – it’s a little different these days. When Robert asked for Daddy for my hand in marriage, I wish his reply would have been, “How many flocks of sheep have you acquired?” NOT, that I’m comparing you to the miller, Roberto, if anyone is the miller in this scenario it’s me. I digress - some things aren’t so different from this tale, showers are still people coming together celebrating and selflessly giving. I haven’t even met most of the people in Houston that are hosting this shower- to them, I’m a stranger from New Mexcio, but since they love the Scarffs, they welcome me without question to the point of throwing a dinner party for me and buying me presents?! I need to remember that is the essence of the shower. Instead of almost developing an ulcer about what I’m going to wear. There will be margaritas and Mexican food there - also a departure from the first shower - but, I’ll be fine, yay tequila. Oh dear, me and tequila will be on “my videotape”.
