Though we had just evacuated Zaire, we had a desire to return there, to do whatever we could to serve God. After arriving back in the States we had been assigned by the mission board to help at the AIM retirement center in Florida. We marveled at how God had cared for every detail while we worked there. When evacuating, Ellen had managed to carry with her: her Bible, her cookbook and some colorful Kitenge material bought in Bunia for our daughter Debbie’s August wedding. Now we were headed back to our farmhouse in New York because Alan and Debbie had decided, since we were already here, why not have an earlier May wedding?

Her older sisters had their weddings in a Cooperstown church, but Debbie wanted her ceremony to be here at the farm on the front lawn. She decided to use the back lawn for the reception as had her twin sisters, four years earlier. Alan loved the out of doors and camping, so his side of the family planned to have the rehearsal dinner by a big campfire near the lone ash tree on the side hill. They would serve foil dinners. This would truly be the first farm wedding.

There were four wedding dresses in the cedar chest in the attic over the kitchen. There were banquet formals, and bridesmaid’s dresses hanging under plastic coverings in the closet off the purple room. When the farmhouse was full of cousins, the girls inevitably got into the dresses to try them on, each to dream of her own wedding, someday. When they called their mom to come see, stating that they were all ready, Ellen always reminded them they first needed a man who loved the Lord above all else, one they could love, respect and obey their whole life. Even the little ones, loved to try on the high heels and clop unsteadily around, so beautiful in something that wouldn’t fit for years! “You aren’t ready yet”, she’d say. The girls always said their mom knew how to sew, and could adjust the dresses to fit perfectly, and she could.

Debbie was ready. She had found her Alan at Houghton College, first getting to know him as part of a group of Christian friends. We were invited to join the group and supply the picnic at Letchworth State Park not far from the college. Debbie needn’t have worried, her mom knew how young men could eat, especially after their game of touch football. They all loved each other and loved their Lord. She had written of her fun with the group. Ellen had noticed that she mentioned Alan more and more often. She was getting to know him.

Ellen invited all of them to visit us at the farm. I would drive over to get them and they could stay the week-end with us. Ellen’s dad loaned me his Toyota Camry station wagon. There were seven of us in that overloaded car. Debbie was able to fit on the floor in front of the back seat, and Alan was behind that seat, with the luggage. Alan read a couple stories from a Patrick McManus book, Real Ponies Don’t Go Oink. The four-hour drive passed quickly. Their wholesome interaction in the hammock and in the pile of fall leaves from the maple trees out front was reassuring to see. They appeared to be fully enjoying the cool fall days in the country, at the beautiful place God had given us. With all of us living together in the old farmhouse we got to know Alan better too.

When Debbie and Alan had visited us in Zaire, a few months before we evacuated, one of her priorities was to share some of her special memories with him. The shopping trips to replenish dorm supplies was part of each vacation month, and this time Alan went with us. Starting on the 100 mile trip to Bunia at 4:00 am and riding five hours in the open back of a three ton Isuzu truck was the first part of the trip. We planned to arrive mid-morning in order to find out what was available, what were the current prices, and to calculate how much money we needed to fill our order. We then bought money from the field treasurer and returned to town to buy and load as much as we could that afternoon.

That night, we went to the Greek Club, the only restaurant in town. I had pre-ordered for us in the middle of the afternoon. When the cook knew how many chicken and shish kebab plates to prepare he sent someone to buy the ingredients at the market place, including the live chicken. The cabbage salad was standard, as were the oily fries, cooked as the Greeks like them. “Squeaky Cheese” was extra, fried in a hot pan, slightly browned, and served hot. How could Alan ever have known what that was, without that trip to Bunia? Coke bottled in Zaire had its own special taste. Alan was getting to know us, too.

The Rondeaus, our close friends who had worked with us for years at Rethy, put us up that night, and we kept the partially loaded truck in their walled compound. We spent the morning going from store to store, purchasing what we could to complete our load. With our passengers riding on top of our three-ton load, we began the trip back to Rethy. That is when we stopped at the market for Ellen, Debbie, and Alan to select the colorful Kitenge material for the wedding.

When we evacuated that material had come back from Zaire with us and now it was time to use it.

Debbie chose to wear her grandmother’s satin dress, with the slim waist and the long flaring train. The intricate, lace sleeves reaching to her wrists, matched the soft accents on the front. Ribbons of lace with the same detail flanked a long row of tiny bead buttons on the back leading to the edging on the train. Her mom could do the sewing but what would they do about approximately one hundred tiny, satin covered metal buttons that had rusted? They would replace them all!

Those buttons weren’t sold anywhere, but some of the same size that fit through the loops were found. The new ones were too white. Debbie stained each one by painting them with two coats of fairly light colored tea, to match the rich satin. The dress was gently washed by hand to remove all the stains remaining from her grandmother’s wedding, where it had first been used more than fifty years earlier. The dress was modified with love. The matching hat and veil were adjusted to fit. The Kitenge material was sewn into the bride’s maid dresses and cummerbunds for the men with bow ties to match. Some was used to decorate the cake table. God was giving a very special wedding to Debbie and Alan, prepared with love, using things that could not be purchased.

Debbie must have been thinking how much she knew her dad enjoyed pie, so she and her mom made dozens of pies in that old double-oven range. Debbie made and elaborately decorated a small two-layer cake as a centerpiece. The upper layer was supported by small white pillars and had the traditional bride and groom cake topper. Ellen had saved wedding “stuff” in the attic, and Debbie had found everything she wanted.

The Wilsons, with whom she had stayed during her practice teaching time after Houghton college, wanted to do all the catering for her. She and Alan had become very special to them. We paid for the food but the Wilsons did the purchasing, and preparation, providing oversight to care for the many details.

Flowers in abundance, gladiolas galore, and hanging baskets of petunias, were personally delivered from the Ingalls Farm in Cooperstown. The front and back yards were filled with flowers. The Ingalls had come to love her, during her summer working with them at their farm and greenhouse, and loaned her an unsurpassed display of flowers for the day. I created a triple gothic arch back ground for the ceremony which had flowers woven into the white lattice work. Our neighbor, Rick Morris, obtained a load of purple and white lilacs to be carried by the bridesmaids and to decorate the tables in the white tents we had rented. The blooms on the lilacs around our house and in front of the barn were just starting, however, he had a friend in Herkimer where the lilacs were in full bloom.

Alan’s family loved campouts and outside cooking. A favorite was foil dinners. The ones they made had all the fresh cut vegetables, peppers, onions, potatoes, and hamburger patties laid out for each to assemble and add spices and cheese to taste. Some of us made the meal too large or cut the foil too small, but we all had a great time learning from the Armes family how to do it right. The bon-fire we had made of broken barn beams and boards had burned down so the deep bed of coals and hot ashes, was as requested. Simply tossing the foil package in the fire and fishing it out with a shovel worked, but some of the meal added fragrance to the fire if the foil split.

We ate the rehearsal dinner on the hillside near the lone ash tree. Some sat on the huge, immoveable, shale rock, some on the picnic table benches, and some on the old barn beams I had dragged up there with the old Ford. To look out on the immense variety of the shades of green trees and fields was in itself, a special gift from God, displaying the spring colors He uses to clothe the country side. To sing praise to Him, looking down on the guest’s tents and campers on the field below was fitting. It had been a beautiful day of preparation. I doubt any wedding has ever had a similar rehearsal dinner.

Our rehearsal actually went smoothly. The pastor from Alan’s church had done this before and gave instructions clearly. The photographer, Debbie’s brother Tim, decided on the best vantage point for the various pictures. Everyone knew when they were to come down the porch steps and where they were to line up. Debbie and her little brother Jeff were very close so she decided that he would stand up with her and take the place of a maid of honor. What all of us will remember and talked about on the hill near the camp-fire was the reaction of little Caleb as he learned his job.

Two of our grandchildren were just old enough to make a perfect flower girl and ring bearer. Kirsten, as she walked along, dropping the flowers on the grass did just fine. But, during the rehearsal, Caleb saw no reason to carry a little pillow, with a ring sewn on top, to those strange people watching him. Soon they were all motioning for him to come. It must be some kind of trap. What was this thing they gave him? His uncle Jeff Wilson squatted down, and held out something. Caleb knew Gummy Worms! He tossed the little pillow to one side, didn’t walk, but ran, to get the red worm being waved at him. The rehearsal was a great success, never so much enjoyed by everyone, including the preacher. We were all laughing together.

Debbie’s wedding day morning offered challenges that can only be imagined when a century old farm-house is shared by nineteen family members with fifteen more in tents outside in the five-acre hayfield just north of the house. There was one shower in the tiny bathroom downstairs and none in the half bath upstairs. Each bathroom had a mirror. There were mirrors attached to several of the dressers. Clearly there had to be a lot of sharing and thinking of others to be all ready in time for the wedding. I think we saw and practiced that day a little more of what love is all about.

The photographer was ready early and captured a picture of a chipmunk hiding under one of the empty chairs before the guests arrived. He also discovered that climbing up in one of the maple trees offered him a special perspective to capture memories for his sister. He did his job well. He also helped to decorate Alan and Debbie’s car that rattled tin cans on the country road as they left for their honeymoon, camping somewhere as I recall.

The Doubleday Courier from Cooperstown had the headline, HOMESPUN GARDEN WEDDING, DEB & ALAN ARMES MAY 31, 1997 displayed on the gift table in front of the house. The folding chairs were then out back for the reception. It was the first wedding at the farm, maybe homespun in a way, but totally dedicated to honoring God.