Only a Dress. It’s a 6.

Couldn’t tell you why I decided to help; all that remained were two closets in the master bedroom and a winter stranded gas barbeque grill frozen to the deck off the dining area. Wait, I could probably tell you the “why”, but I’d rather tell you the “what”.

Hanging in the larger of the two closets behind old winter coats and clothing marked “Donate”; pushed further and further to the back by the passing of the years, was a wedding dress. Beneath see-through protective covering, hanging from a polished cedar wood hanger, was an ivory colored, liquid silk wedding dress with sweetheart neckline. It’s bodice was fitted, sleeves long and ending with single silk button at the wrist, it whispered of understated elegance and modesty.

Beautiful in its simplicity, I felt an urge to wrap my arms around it as if by magic I might feel what the woman who had worn that dress felt on her wedding day, when the world was suddenly new and possibility lay as open as the night sky, where wonder and a new life lay waiting.