where there's a will

A friend shared this story with me today: last weekend her son married a lovely girl in a meadow in the Santa Cruz Mountains. The bride had lost her beloved father when she was a teen and was very sad that he would not be able to walk his little girl down the aisle on her wedding day. Her stepfather of ten years had the honor of escorting the bride to meet her new husband at the altar. My friend noticed, as he went by in his tuxedo, that he was wearing a pair of rough brown cowboy boots. She thought it might be about the meadow, but later that day she was told the real reason. Those were the bride's late father's boots. Dad walked her down the aisle after all.