As I watched her walk up the aisle, I glanced over and noticed that the groom's hands were clenched in tight fists. He was beet red, sweating, and breathing in short, tense bursts.

Here comes the bride.

She clutched his hand, and all was well. He began to breathe again. The red drained away. As the pastor worked through the ceremony their faces showed that they both felt only one thing: happiness. Pure happiness.