Wedding Day

Every mother, I guess, dreams of her daughter's wedding day and I was no exception. Visions of my beautiful daughter descending a sweeping staircase, dressed in a magnificent designer gown, about to be taken in a fairy carriage to a fashionable church, often flitted through my mind's eye.

Anna's wedding, in fact, took place in Lapland in a traditional Lapp ceremony on January 4, this year. The only people from Britain were my husband, Mike, and myself while Anna's godmother travelled from Dublin to be with us. Apart from us three and an Australian and his Malaysian wife and their 12-year-old son, all of those attending the wedding were Finns. Was I disappointed? Not at all.

Anna wore a beautiful traditional wedding dress, which sparkled in the candlelight, and I was saved the hassle of organising the ceremony and the reception. I did miss seeing Anna's friends there but the choice was hers and Pasi, her fiancé's.

Early on the morning of the wedding I walked alone in the snow from our log cabin to the Kiilopaa Fell Centre to join the bridegroom's family for breakfast. They had arrived in Kiilopaa two days earlier and on the day before the wedding Mike and I had gone on a sledge ride with them, pulled by a snowmobile.

Any reservations I had held vanished as I found them to be very caring, loving people. The dad will be 60 in July and he has invited us to his party. Paivi, Pasi's sister, is a very quiet friendly young woman and she speaks perfect English so she acted as translator for us.

The ride was good, up in the hills outside Saariselka, and we ended up in a log cabin drinking hot berry juice. That day, too, we caught our first glimpse of a herd of reindeer at the edge of the forest. It's strange how the sight of deer always excites us.

On the morning of the wedding Paivi was driving her mother and me to the Spa Hotel in Saariselka where we were having our hair styled and our faces made up professionally.

In the salon the beautician resembled an artist with her palette and brushes and paints. My face was the canvas on which she worked. I kept thinking I was an actress being made up to go on stage.

Surveying the result in the mirror, I thought: "No. That isn't me!" However, I'd paid what was for me a small fortune so, when others said they didn't like the result, I felt I could have done a better job myself with the advice I'd received from the make-up department at Boots back home. Still, it felt good to be pampered just that once for a very special occasion in my life.

On my own wedding day in 1959 my hairdresser had come to the house to do my hair and make-up and to help me dress but I was young then and my face was a fresher canvas to work on.

Likewise, the hairdresser, a 38-year-old charming man, used his artistic skills to create a "way out" bouffant hairstyle.

"Mum, I don't like your hair like that. I like it flat the way you always wear it."

I could have had five hairdos back in Cannock for the price of that one creation! Luckily, I myself was happy with it! Anna was next in the hairdresser's chair.

The ceremony took place at 3pm in an octagonal wooden building, lit by candles and heated by a huge log fire. Arriving at the hut, we found logs burning in pairs, lining our path outside on the snow. Inside, mats had been placed on the earthen floor for Anna to stand on. The congregation sat on log benches covered with reindeer hides and in front of each person a tiny tea candle burned on a small log table.

A Lutheran Evangelical minister conducted the ceremony in Finnish and in English. One hymn was sung at the end in Finnish. It was a simple, yet moving, ceremony. As Anna entered with her dad, I noticed that she wasn't wearing her veil or tiara. Later, I discovered that the tiara was missing. Anna had left it at the hairdresser's!

I wore a dark-green, woollen suit with a long skirt, which hid the thermals and the boots underneath. Outside, the temperature was -25 degrees centigrade.

For the reception I changed into a long black evening skirt and dark-red Lurex top while on my feet I wore a pair of black sandals with long pointed toes and encrusted with sparkling silver stones, again not really me! I remember the day I bought those sandals, never dreaming I'd wear them at Anna's wedding. I had taken them out of the box on the bus and given the other passengers a good laugh. They are very much a young person's style!

As we entered the reception area, Anna and Pasi stood and greeted each of us. Then we were offered a glass of champagne and when all had found their places at a table, Anna and Pasi entered with their glasses tied together with red and green ribbons. The toasts were drunk before and not after the meal.

Lastly, came the cutting of the cakes, first the English cake which I had made and which Anna's former primary school teacher had iced and decorated so professionally. He used vegetable colours to paint an accurate picture on the cake of Mt Everest.

The Finnish cake was a large slab of sponge filled and decorated with fresh fruit and cream. There is a tradition that, as they cut it, the first to stamp his/her foot will be the boss.

Jokingly, Anna had said to Pasi: "There's no need to stamp. You're the boss anyway." Was I hearing things? This young woman had never before admitted to being bossed by anyone!

After the meal Norah, the young Malaysian woman, sang a touching song to the bride and bridegroom. Some of the words have stuck in my memory.

"I'll paint my mood in shades of blue; paint my soul to be with you." "I'll draw the years all passing by. So much to learn, so much to try." Norah has sung professionally in Malaysia and Tas, her husband, was very proud of her performance. For me this was one of the most moving parts of the reception.

Soon after this there was a sudden commotion when a very tall guest in military uniform scooped Anna up and slung her across his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, racing from the room to a waiting taxi. She had been kidnapped and Pasi had to perform a feat to win her back.

A week before the wedding his friends had taken him to his stag party. They plied him with drink and put him in a ring with one of Finland's top professional boxers who left him with two broken ribs.

Then they took him to a television studio where he had to record as lead vocalist with a group. Now he had to sell 10 of his CDs to buy Anna back. He quickly did this but Anna didn't surface for some time. Rumour spread that the taxi had broken down and another had to be called.

While she was away, Pasi and his friend handed each of us a quiz to work on. Questions such as "Who served with the French Foreign Legion?" or "Who cycled from Kathmandu to Dakar?" ensured that we moved about introducing ourselves to the other guests and finding out who did what. We were at a disadvantage because not everyone spoke English and we knew no Finnish.

One thing we learned was that many of the guests had done really exciting, adventurous things in their lives. They, too, seemed interested in us and some asked me about my own wedding day and how was it different from Anna's.

Anna returned eventually and then she and Pasi led the dancing with a beautiful waltz. They had gone for dancing lessons in Helsinki where Pasi had to unlearn all his stiff military movements. I must say they gave a brilliant performance. Anna has always been a superb dancer.

I waltzed with Pasi's father and Mike with his mother. So the night progressed in celebration and merriment. Pasi's 88-year old grandmother was happy to be there and as his mother parted from us outside our cabin at midnight she said in an emotional, almost disbelieving tone: "Pasi is married. And Anna."

The young people had all gone on to a nightclub in Saariselka and I believe they didn't arrive back till 3am.

So, Anna is married and Mike and I have a son-in-law and a new country to visit in Europe. We have had the holiday of a lifetime, one we would never have dreamed of going on had it not be.