When I was very young, my parents planted a magnolia tree in our yard, in hopes of my having magnolias at my wedding. Plans for my future wedding also came up when I was 16 years old. Daddy arrived home from a church meeting with a rolled-up drawing of the soon-to-be Methodist church building. He unrolled the plans and pointed with pleasure to the chapel, saying, “Look, Neill, the new church will have a center aisle, instead of the side aisle of our church now, so at your wedding, I can walk you down the center of the sanctuary!” That anticipation held a particular poignancy since I was the only daughter in a family with six sons. I expected that trip down the church aisle and planned on it. Those expectations vanished like the dew of a Louisiana morning when I took an eternal step and entered the waters of baptism in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
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