"After the wedding cake...was cut, everybody hit the dance floor again. Even though it was getting late, and the toddlers were sleepy-eyed, nobody wanted to leave.... Instead they stayed and danced. They waltzed, they jerked, they Cajun two-stepped, they mash-potatoed, they jitterbugged, they fox-trotted, they boogied their little hearts out.

From her perch on the crescent of the harvest moon, the Holy Lady looked down and smiled at her imperfect children. The angels attending her that night felt little twinges of longing to be in human form.... They wanted to rock, they wanted to roll, they wanted to feel the peculiarly human feeling of having a perfect night in an imperfect world. They wanted to taste the saltiness of tears...the way - if truth be told - almost everyone did on the night Sidda Walker wed Connor McGill....

When the dancers spoke, breathless, happy, in between songs, they told each other the night was charmed. They told each other it felt like some kind of spell had been put on them.

To this the Blessed Mother only winked. To this she would only say, 'Them that know don't tell; and them that tell don't know.'"



In an imperfect world, may our mutual endeavors be as perfect as the angels allow. I love you, Silent Partner.