This wasn’t just any wedding. It was a wedding made of miracles.

Long before this joyful celebration, the mother of the groom, had to first survive a brutal attack in Africa and then, with third-degree burns, walk for months to get to safety. With the boy who would become the groom, her other children, and a newborn in tow. And no money.

It was a wedding that required creativity and incredible resourcefulness for the same mother to earn enough money to bring her children to the U.S. as refugees, to land here in North Carolina, and then to learn a new language and culture they knew nothing about.

It was a wedding where the groom had beaten every odd to be the first in his entire family to go to college and graduate despite arriving here as a teenager unable to speak English. Now, his sister has followed, becoming the first girl to do the same.

It was a wedding where African and American families danced down the aisle in joyful celebration, where other refugees with their own harrowing stories celebrated the goodness of life, and where faith, hope, and love prevailed, and the impossible was beautifully real.

It was a place where strangers became friends as they talked and line danced. Some of them had played a critical part in this family’s success by working intensively to teach them English, extending generosity in giving them furniture and a car or paying for education, and loving in the kindest, truest, most selfless sense of the word.

Being there in their company and celebrating with them was better than any movie I could imagine, any story I’ve ever read because it was real and the kind of beautiful you feel blessed and honored to witness.

A man and woman saying yes to life together, the sharpest of contrasts to a life left behind, and a bright spark for the one that lies ahead. Hope, always.

Congratulations and abundant blessings to Janvier and Janae.
And to all who played a part in their miracle.