Husband and I strolled ourselves into a wedding leaving the church. The beautiful bride and smiling groom descended the steps, paused for a few photos, then stepped into the white antique car for their ride to the reception.

As the car was pulling away from the curb, a small figure burst through the throng of guests seeing the new couple off. She was an older woman wearing a green dress, two bright pink spots of rouge on her cheeks.

“Wait!” she cried. (All conversations in Spanish, of course.)

The car braked and the older woman hopped into the front seat beside the driver. The car started up again with the new passenger talking up a storm and pointing directions.

I turned to one of the guests.

“Who was that?” I asked.

“The bride’s mother,” she answered.

See second photo for how happy the groom is about this.