We went to a wedding this weekend in a church covered in stained glass, all incense and wood and hope, the mystery of rituals from a religion I never followed unfolding in front of me. Somewhere around the middle of the ceremony the sun came out, lighting up the altar and the incense and the bride and groom. We all know that one of the things I believe in most deeply is the sweet profundity of little coincidences, and the outside couldn't have picked a better time to show itself inside.
On the way to the church we walked along sidewalks lined with clumps of clover for a few blocks when I was overwhelmed with the certainty that there was a four-leaf clover just to my left. We found it and tucked it into the groom's pocket, although as far as I could see neither one of them needed any luck beyond what they had already made for themselves.
On the way to the church we walked along sidewalks lined with clumps of clover for a few blocks when I was overwhelmed with the certainty that there was a four-leaf clover just to my left. We found it and tucked it into the groom's pocket, although as far as I could see neither one of them needed any luck beyond what they had already made for themselves.
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