Weddings are a major life event that often leave us with stories to share. Some of them are distressing at the time but are often funny in retrospect. Here are a few stories, culled from neighbors and friends.
Better than a Debutante
My own story happened when I was a
young woman soon to be married. I told my mother, a”h, who was working,
that I could find a bridal gown on my own. So, I rode a bus to downtown
Baltimore and walked into a small bridal shop. I was the only customer, but the
sales lady didn’t ask if she could help me. Instead, she said, “These gowns are
for high society debutantes.”
I didn’t know what to say. With my
face flushed, I left the store and crossed the street to Hochschild Kohn or
Hutzler department store (I forgot which one). There I found pink bridesmaid
dresses for my attendants to order, and I ordered a bridal gown for myself. It
looked a little like the high society ones. Several weeks later, getting close
to my wedding, I went downtown to pick up the gown, tried it on, and said, “I
don’t like it.”
“Humph,” said the sales lady,
“We’ve never had a bride refuse her gown.”
“Sorry,” I answered. I knew I
couldn’t wear that dress, which was falling off my shoulders. Now I had a
problem – no bridal gown and my wedding in a few weeks. My mother told me not
to worry, that she knew of stores that sold sample gowns. In an unfamiliar
neighborhood of Baltimore, my mother and I found a proper gown. Because of my
mother, I walked down the aisle at Shaarei Zion in a gown fit for a kallah,
“better than a debutante.”
The Purim Parade
Years later, I was living in
Atlanta. Now I was the mother of the kallah. I was sitting at my kitchen
table with my future machateinesta, arranging seating for the guests at
our children’s upcoming chasuna. (Fortunately, open seating is a popular
choice today.) With charts in hand and hundreds of name cards spread out before
us, it was challenging.
Suddenly, I realized that I was
missing my shul’s annual Purim parade with marching bands, school floats, our
rabbi riding a motorcycle, and more. I knew it was important to assign seating
for the wedding, but I didn’t want to miss this. So, I jumped out of my seat
and said to my machateinesta, “I’m going to watch the Purim parade; I’ll
be right back.”
Her eyebrows rose and her jaw
dropped, but no words came out. I drove to where the parade would pass and came
back 15 or 20 minutes later. When I think back to how I abandoned my good
friend, whose son would soon marry my daughter, I can hardly believe that I
left her in the middle of our wedding preps to watch a parade. But when I
returned, it felt easier to assign seating. And my machateinesta and I,
now great-grandparents, b”H, have a story to laugh about.
Sew Lucky
My friend told me this one: “My son
was getting married in a different city. I brought along a gown for my teenage
daughter, who had been in camp for the summer and never got a chance to try on
the gown that her sister had sewn for her. When we all met in this other city,
the gown was too tight. Luckily, I had brought along extra fabric. Our hostess
had a sewing machine, and I was able to insert gussets to make the sleeves and
bodice wider. Unfortunately, I missed the machatunim’s delicious
brunch.”
Not a Petty Matter
Mrs. S and family were at the hall
in Glen Burnie, a 40-minute ride from Park Heights, getting ready for her
daughter’s wedding. The kallah put on the dress and realized that the
petticoat that puffed out the skirt was missing, ruining the look of the gown.
It would take too long to drive home and retrieve the petticoat. What to do?
Her neighbors were at the wedding, but their teenage son was at home. Mrs. S
called the teenager, who agreed to bring the petticoat, but he had no key to
the house. So, she instructed the teen in how to “break in,” which involved
standing on a trash can and climbing into an unlocked window, which he did.
Fortunately, no one saw him. With petticoat in hand, he got to the hall in time
for the chupah!
In a Dizzy
Mrs. N, a nurse, shared that at her
child’s wedding, the other family showed up early to a near-empty hall. Because
Mincha was accidently scheduled for the same time as the chupah, most of
the men were davening. Her son and son-in-law, who were supposed to sing “Baruch
Haba” were part of the minyan. As the chassan and his parents stood
at the opened door before the aisle, the one-man band musician didn’t know what
to do. He decided to sing “Baruch Haba” himself. Mrs. N said, “The chupah
was already underway, by the time everyone showed up!”
At another child’s wedding, the man
in charge of things running smoothly lost count of the number of times that
she, her machateinesta, and the kallah circled the chassan.
“It might have been nine times, at least,” she said. “Of course, that was still
good but as dizzying as a spinning dreidel.”
A Police Escort
A wedding between a girl from
Atlanta and a boy from Baltimore was to take place at the Newton White Mansion
about a 45-minute drive from where the kallah lived. On the day of the
wedding, Jan Siegelman, father of the bride, was driving his wife, their
daughter, her shomeret, her sister from San Francisco, and her brother
when the car started to break down. He pulled over to the side and called AAA
but didn’t know how all of them would get to the wedding in time. The sister
suggested they call an Uber big enough to hold them and all the wedding
“stuff.”
“It was the first time we ever
heard of Uber,” said Rachael, mother of the bride. A black limo came and
picked up the bride and everyone except Jan, who stayed behind with the car.
“We were already late for pre-wedding pictures, and Dad was missing,” said
Rachael.
As he waited by the car, time
ticking by, Jan saw a police car pull up. “Are you Mr. Siegelman?” the officer
asked. “I’m here to escort you to your daughter’s wedding, and don’t worry
about the car. I’ll make sure it gets to the right place.” Rachael thinks it
might have been Eliahu Havavi or just a kind person who liked to make others
happy.
Making people happy and yourself
happy at the same time are what Rachael Siegelman and her twin sister Sarah
Routman wrote about in their book, Discover the Power of Laughter: Jump
Start Your Journey to Health and Joy (Matterhorn Press, Atlanta, GA:
2025). Before signing her name in my copy, Rachael wrote this message to
my husband and me: “So much of life is about choices and attitude. I hope my
journey towards joy and positivity will inspire you.” On page 222, she shares a
short message for wedding planners to use “Smile
Ups” and “Laughter Breaths” to help their clients let go
of stress.
How the Cookie Crumbles
Shoshana Fishkind certainly used
laughter to lessen her stress when making Shabbos sheva brachos
for her daughter. With the mechutanim coming in from Lakewood, she
wanted everything to go smoothly and perfectly, and of course, “when we put
that kind of pressure on ourselves it’s always super pressuring,” she said.
Shoshana had ordered personalized cookies from a new employee at a bakery.
First she suggested the words “Mazel Tov Tova & Shmuli.” The employee
thought that would be too much on a cookie, so Shoshana said, “How about just
Tova & Shmuli,” but he thought that might also be too much. “Alright,” she
said, “How about just a ‘tess’ and a ‘shin’?” This he okayed
Before Shabbos, she had a lot of
errands to run, and her niece Fraidy, from Israel, came with her to pick up the
cookies. When Shoshana opened the box, “to my absolute horror, I saw that the
cookies didn’t have the Hebrew letters tess and shin but the
words “Tess & Shin” spelled out on each cookie.
Shoshana says that it’s good that
her niece was with her. The niece, with Israeli nonchalance and resilience,
said, “Okay, so it’s going to be funny – a funny thing.” And Shoshana said that
suddenly “I just lost it. I couldn’t stop laughing.” All the tension was gone.
The manager gave her a deep discount on the cookies, and as she left the store,
she was still laughing – and everyone was laughing with her.
Highest Society
One last story: Rebbetzin Randee
Goldberger in Atlanta had planned a beautiful wedding for her daughter,
complete with catered food, music, flowers, and most of all, many guests. Covid
changed all that. It was now going to be a much smaller wedding, and her other
daughters asked, “Should we still wear gowns?”
“Of course!” she answered. “It’s
for the king and queen.”
That brings me back to the
saleslady who said that her gowns were for “high society.” Now I realize
that the highest society is not those with wealth and influence but us, the
Jewish people – whether married or single – whom G-d has elevated to live a
life of Torah and share our stories.
