The wail of the evening Charlottetown train arriving at
the station slowly saturated the room as she finished fixing her
formerly fiery hair softened now with slips of silver. All of her
friends and family would be gathering there shortly to celebrate the
thirty-fifth anniversary of the happiest day of her life, the day she
married her beloved Gilbert. All of her living family and friends would
be there, that is. The cry of the late train brought her out of
momentary bliss and reminded her of other crying trains, and the long
years of tears they brought with them. It reminded her of the brave
goodbyes she endured, watching her three sons each carried off to fight
in a far off war. It reminded her of the old dog, now resting
peacefully, that waited patiently four years at the train station until
his sturdy young master returned. It reminded her also of the dog's
cries that muted out the blaring train and foreshadowed their own tears
at the realization that one of her boys would not be returning on any
evening or morning train. He now slept under a white cross, "somewhere
in France."
She walked to the window, looked about the Glen and off in the direction of a small grave where her firstborn and first heartbreak slept peacefully. She thought of Matthew and Marilla, of dear old Susan whose giant heart had finally given out, and of the parents that she never knew. It wasn't always like her to think such melancholy thoughts. Sometimes, however, it came upon her. Especially at times that it wasn't expected: times that were so special and important that she wished everyone she had ever loved could share in her joy. She knew that in a sense, they were with her, they always would be, but she still wished for the flesh and blood.
A familiar footfall climbing the stairs lulled her out of her reverie. She wiped her eyes and determined herself to "keep faith," and give in to the joy of the evening, pushing back the sorrow.
"Anne-girl, there you are! Don't keep the crowds waiting for the woman of the evening. The Blythe-clan can sometimes be less than blithe when kept waiting, you know, especially the young ones. They know of all the wonderful food that has been prepared and would like for the festivities to begin."
There he stood in the doorway of the bedroom they had shared for over thirty years, her tower of strength and soul mate, Gilbert. His brown curls had faded to gray yet his hazel eyes still sparkled with a love for his wife that was deeper than any trench or gorge. She turned from the window to face him, eyes shining bright as that day thirty-five years before in the orchard of Green Gables. "Coming dearest."
He extended his arm to his bride, and together they walked down the staircase of their beloved Ingleside, onto the veranda, and then out to the garden where it seemed as if all of their loved ones were gathered, just waiting on the couple to make their grand entrance.
Applause and cheers met Anne and Gilbert as they appeared to their guests. Their oldest son, Jem, known now the Glen St. Mary as the younger Dr. Blythe walked to his parents and spoke first with pride and joy seeming to burst from his every seam. "Here they are ladies and gentlemen, the couple of the evening, Dr. and Mrs. Gilbert and Anne Blythe!" Cheers and applause came again until Jem silenced them. "As all of you know, I am not a great speaker; those genes were passed on to other members of the Blythe clan. However, as you all also know the reason we are here this evening is to celebrate a union that has been sanctified and blessed by God. A union established on this very September day, thirty-five years ago when a poor young doctor, raised as a poor farmer's son, married the very beautiful, very vivacious young school ma'am in the orchard of her adopted home, Green Gables. Theirs has been for the most part, a normal marriage. They have endured joys and heartaches together. They have seen the seemingly idyllic world in which they were raised be ripped apart, and their family along with it. They have endured together through the most trying time in modern history. They have held our family close together, not allowing distance or even death to have its everlasting hold on us. Last and not least, they have continued to share their love and bless this family on to the next generation, their grandchildren, passing on the values and ideals that they instilled in my brothers, sisters, and myself. They never failed to show us that love doesn't fade with age, but that it grows stronger and binds us together with time and yes, even more love. Mother and Dad, we are gathered here this evening to celebrate the two of you and all that you mean to us. I am proud to be your son, here's to you."
As the couple took their seat at a center table, Kenneth Ford, the husband of their youngest, Rilla, started a chant, "To Gilbert and Anne," and when the cheering ceased. Ken was also the first of a long of people to express what Gilbert and Anne meant to him.
"I for one, have many reasons to be grateful for the marriage of Mother and Father Blythe. First, I in part owe them for my very existence. For you see, had they not married and moved to Four Winds Point, my parents would never have married. Their friendship helped my mother out of a difficult life and aided in her friendship with my father. They helped providence to push two people together along with the help of dear Mrs. Cornelia Elliot," he said pointing to the frail lady sitting between his own parents and her aging husband.
He added, "Of course along with my existence, they also provided me with my life's happiness in their youngest daughter, Rilla-my-Rilla. With that blessing, which in itself is more than any man could ask, came our own little Gilbert and Anne. Thank you for the example of love you have given us," as he now pointed to where his young wife was holding a girl about three years old, with the beginnings of the red hair many of her family members were known for with a five-year-old boy at her feet.
The expressions of joy continued with a member of each child's family saying something to show how they felt, ending with shy, quiet Shirley saying, "Having just married myself, I look to my parents' marriage as an example. I hope that in the year Nineteen hundred and sixty, when I have been married for thirty-five years, I can have half as many blessings to show for it." He started to sit down, then, somewhat uncharacteristically added, "To think it all began with my mother breaking a slate over my father's head for calling her carrots!"
She walked to the window, looked about the Glen and off in the direction of a small grave where her firstborn and first heartbreak slept peacefully. She thought of Matthew and Marilla, of dear old Susan whose giant heart had finally given out, and of the parents that she never knew. It wasn't always like her to think such melancholy thoughts. Sometimes, however, it came upon her. Especially at times that it wasn't expected: times that were so special and important that she wished everyone she had ever loved could share in her joy. She knew that in a sense, they were with her, they always would be, but she still wished for the flesh and blood.
A familiar footfall climbing the stairs lulled her out of her reverie. She wiped her eyes and determined herself to "keep faith," and give in to the joy of the evening, pushing back the sorrow.
"Anne-girl, there you are! Don't keep the crowds waiting for the woman of the evening. The Blythe-clan can sometimes be less than blithe when kept waiting, you know, especially the young ones. They know of all the wonderful food that has been prepared and would like for the festivities to begin."
There he stood in the doorway of the bedroom they had shared for over thirty years, her tower of strength and soul mate, Gilbert. His brown curls had faded to gray yet his hazel eyes still sparkled with a love for his wife that was deeper than any trench or gorge. She turned from the window to face him, eyes shining bright as that day thirty-five years before in the orchard of Green Gables. "Coming dearest."
He extended his arm to his bride, and together they walked down the staircase of their beloved Ingleside, onto the veranda, and then out to the garden where it seemed as if all of their loved ones were gathered, just waiting on the couple to make their grand entrance.
Applause and cheers met Anne and Gilbert as they appeared to their guests. Their oldest son, Jem, known now the Glen St. Mary as the younger Dr. Blythe walked to his parents and spoke first with pride and joy seeming to burst from his every seam. "Here they are ladies and gentlemen, the couple of the evening, Dr. and Mrs. Gilbert and Anne Blythe!" Cheers and applause came again until Jem silenced them. "As all of you know, I am not a great speaker; those genes were passed on to other members of the Blythe clan. However, as you all also know the reason we are here this evening is to celebrate a union that has been sanctified and blessed by God. A union established on this very September day, thirty-five years ago when a poor young doctor, raised as a poor farmer's son, married the very beautiful, very vivacious young school ma'am in the orchard of her adopted home, Green Gables. Theirs has been for the most part, a normal marriage. They have endured joys and heartaches together. They have seen the seemingly idyllic world in which they were raised be ripped apart, and their family along with it. They have endured together through the most trying time in modern history. They have held our family close together, not allowing distance or even death to have its everlasting hold on us. Last and not least, they have continued to share their love and bless this family on to the next generation, their grandchildren, passing on the values and ideals that they instilled in my brothers, sisters, and myself. They never failed to show us that love doesn't fade with age, but that it grows stronger and binds us together with time and yes, even more love. Mother and Dad, we are gathered here this evening to celebrate the two of you and all that you mean to us. I am proud to be your son, here's to you."
As the couple took their seat at a center table, Kenneth Ford, the husband of their youngest, Rilla, started a chant, "To Gilbert and Anne," and when the cheering ceased. Ken was also the first of a long of people to express what Gilbert and Anne meant to him.
"I for one, have many reasons to be grateful for the marriage of Mother and Father Blythe. First, I in part owe them for my very existence. For you see, had they not married and moved to Four Winds Point, my parents would never have married. Their friendship helped my mother out of a difficult life and aided in her friendship with my father. They helped providence to push two people together along with the help of dear Mrs. Cornelia Elliot," he said pointing to the frail lady sitting between his own parents and her aging husband.
He added, "Of course along with my existence, they also provided me with my life's happiness in their youngest daughter, Rilla-my-Rilla. With that blessing, which in itself is more than any man could ask, came our own little Gilbert and Anne. Thank you for the example of love you have given us," as he now pointed to where his young wife was holding a girl about three years old, with the beginnings of the red hair many of her family members were known for with a five-year-old boy at her feet.
The expressions of joy continued with a member of each child's family saying something to show how they felt, ending with shy, quiet Shirley saying, "Having just married myself, I look to my parents' marriage as an example. I hope that in the year Nineteen hundred and sixty, when I have been married for thirty-five years, I can have half as many blessings to show for it." He started to sit down, then, somewhat uncharacteristically added, "To think it all began with my mother breaking a slate over my father's head for calling her carrots!"