The Polygamist's Daughter

David decided to join the Marine Corps. Right before he left for thirteen weeks of basic training, he visited me for a weekend. Being with him again, in person, felt so right. He had always been a gentleman, and I appreciated that about him. We had committed to remaining pure while we dated, and we kept that commitment to one another. I felt like that promise alone spoke volumes about how he would treat me after we were married. I knew he would love and respect me. And I believed David would help me unravel my tangled emotions following Lillian’s death.

I was thrilled to go to the Marine Corps recruit depot in San Diego for David’s graduation, appropriately fancy in my new outfit and three-inch heels. The next day, we flew back to Houston, where the celebration continued.

David’s mom, Sandy, had prepared his favorite meal of chili beans and Mexican-style cornbread, with Mrs. Smith’s Deep Dish Apple Pie and Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla ice cream for dessert. We both enjoyed being with his family, including his younger brother and sister, Ben and Emily. I slept at Celia’s apartment, but I spent every waking hour with David.

One night after dinner, we were alone at his mom’s apartment, relaxing on the couch together. Suddenly, David pulled out a little black box, opened it, and held it in his hand in front of me. I gaped at the diamond ring inside.

“Anna, will you marry me?”

My heart missed a beat at the question. I couldn’t wait to begin our happily-ever-after life together.

“Yes, of course I’ll marry you!” I couldn’t wait to tell Celia and begin planning my wedding! I thought, I wish I could let you know, too, Mom. If only I knew how to reach you.

After David returned to San Diego to complete the rest of his training, I began to plan our wedding. Every time we talked on the phone, I asked his opinion about wedding details —the colors I was choosing, flowers, music —and he assured me that whatever I decided was fine with him.

“All I really care about is seeing you coming down that aisle toward me. I can’t wait for us to walk out of that church as husband and wife.”

Thankfully, I had Celia, as well as lots of friends and standin “family” like Bob and Phyllis, who were willing to help with the wedding plans. Neither David’s parents nor my mom could help us with the expenses, so the words shoestring budget became a reality we worked around.

Celia, my maid of honor, already had her dress —a sky-blue Cinderella-style ball gown I had made for her when I was a senior in high school. The dress took first prize in the state ACE international student competition and a fifth-place ribbon nationally. But having Celia wear it on this day was the most meaningful to me.

To honor Lillian and Mark, I asked their youngest daughter, Hannah, to be my flower girl. She had just turned seven years old. I couldn’t afford a fancy dress for her, either. A friend from work, Nancy McGee, offered to make a simple, elastic-waistband skirt. I didn’t hold much hope of finding the same color as Celia’s dress, but I thought the same taffeta fabric in a complementary color would work well.

One night after work, Nancy and I went to Cloth World to pick out the fabric. As soon as we walked into the store, I began scanning the bolts of fabric, looking for a pale shade of pink. One of the employees had a shopping cart full of rolled-up fabric remnants. As she picked up a bundle of remnants, I couldn’t believe my eyes. In her hand was a small roll of the exact fabric and color I had used for Celia’s dress —just enough fabric to make a fancy skirt for a little girl. Nancy took the fabric home and brought the finished skirt to my house the following day.

More than anything, I wanted to find a beautiful wedding dress. I went to several bridal shops and tried on gorgeous gowns, but the price tag on every one far exceeded my budget. I had no idea how I would pay for such an extravagant purchase on my meager earnings working for ACE. I lamented my situation to Celia during one of our many long-distance phone calls. “Even though I love this one particular dress, I can’t justify spending that much money. No, that’s not true. I don’t have the money to spend.”

Celia offered a suggestion. “Why don’t you rent a gown for the day? That way you’d get something beautiful, and it wouldn’t break the bank.” That was an idea I hadn’t even considered.

I heard another voice on the phone in the background.

“Hold on,” Celia said.

“Well, if my wedding gown fits her, she can have it!” said the other voice.

Celia came back on the line. “Anna, my boyfriend’s sister just came by the office, and she heard me talking to you about a wedding dress. She said you’re welcome to wear hers.” Later, Celia elaborated, saying that the young woman’s wedding day wasn’t a good memory for her, and she was delighted that her dress might make someone else happy.

Celia confirmed the size, and that sealed the deal. Celia sent me the dress by FedEx just days before the wedding. I still had a rental gown in reserve, but I was hoping I could cancel the rental with minimal fees if this dress worked out.

When the package arrived, I held my breath as I pulled it out of the box and slowly unzipped the protective bag it was in. I stepped into the dress with Emily’s help. As I stood in front of the mirror, I couldn’t believe my reflection.

Not only did it fit perfectly, but it had the same type of sleeves that were on the dress I had picked out to rent, and a bodice and high neckline made of beautiful lace. Nancy loaned me her wedding veil. I look back now and marvel at the miracle dress —perfectly styled, formed, and fitted just for me. I knew that my heavenly Father had provided this gift to make my wedding day special.

Another friend from work made us a wonderful three-tiered cake and created all the silk flower arrangements for the wedding party. Immediately after the ceremony, she would repurpose my bouquet as a decoration for the bridal table at the reception. I valued her frugality and understanding.

David finished his training and flew to Dallas the night before our wedding. On December 16, 1989, Bob Carpus walked me down the aisle. I carefully measured my steps, looking around at all the family and friends that showed up for us that day. I was sad that Mom couldn’t be there, but I was grateful for everyone else who came. It was a day of celebrating young love, and everyone was happy for us.

A family friend paid for my honeymoon attire, and my college friends, led by Madlin, pooled their funds for David and me to stay at a nearby hotel on our wedding night. As we began our life together, I reveled in the joy of the moment.

We spent the last part of our honeymoon celebrating Christmas with David’s grandparents, retreating to “the honeymoon suite” —the guest bedroom in their home —at night. Grampa Roger and Grammy Nancy’s generosity made our shoestring-budget honeymoon everything we could have hoped for and more. As we got ready to leave, Grammy packed up our car with brand-new bedding, household items, and yummy treats for the road. There was barely room for us!

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