I approached the group of yearbook students pouring over photographs and noted the dark-haired, handsome student displaying them. His name was Conrad and the pictures came from Viet Nam where his parents served as missionaries with Pocket Testament League. Carol had pointed him out to me a few days earlier, so when Don asked me to go with him to the mall one evening, I invited Carol and then also asked Conrad, the fun extrovert of the group, to join us.

Some time later, after a heated theological discussion, my former boyfriend cynically told Conrad he should talk to me because I thought just like he did. Conrad followed Steve’s advice and asked me on a double date March 23, ’68 with his cousin from San Francisco—his home town. I bowled quite horribly that night but Conrad seemed refreshingly easy-going and fun-loving in contrast to my practical, no-nonsense German heritage. I also could not miss his strong theological convictions. More dates followed and I felt a deep peace. He invited me to visit the Baptist Church he attended. I noted the passionate preaching and robust choruses lead by a pianist literally bouncing through the songs—quite unlike my more formal, reverent Mennonite church services with well trained choirs and reserved audiences.

After my last performance in our school drama, Conrad gave me  a bouquet of roses, and when I slid into his car, he leaned over and gave me a quick kiss. Summer came. He left for Mexico on an extended mission trip and I continued to work in the library. We missed each other so much and I poured over his letters. One beautiful September day after he returned, we sat beneath some shade trees on the lawn at McDonalds. When he asked if I thought two people could live together as cheaply as one, I answered, “Yes.” Even though he had told me he wanted to be a preacher, I was so “in love” that his career choice didn’t matter. His dark hair, sparkling eyes, beautiful smile, rolling laughter, and kindred spirit were irresistible!

One December evening as I sat on our kitchen counter, I gathered courage to tell my parents that Conrad had asked me to marry him. They asked what I told him. I said I told him yes, after which I jumped down from my perch and ran to my room in sobs. Mother followed me and held me in her arms. The next day from his campus office window, my dad watched Conrad walk back and forth before knocking on his door. My sweet dad graciously gave His blessing.

Conrad’s last name was Peters, a good Mennonite name, so my relatives were good with that. However, Conrad’s ancestors were German, Scotch, Swiss, and even possibly Jewish, but certainly not Mennonite. His sister had married a Mennonite who worked on the college campus and Conrad lived with them. My parents wanted me to graduate before we married, but perceiving Conrad’s loneliness, granted permission after my junior year. That spring he also escorted me to our Homecoming festivities. This formerly shy, naive, Canadian farm girl who decided to reach past her fears to others was honored as homecoming queen. Miracles really do happen from the inside out.

Just before he graduated, Conrad contracted severe bronchitis, which repeatedly took his breath away, scaring us all! With a possible diagnosis of multiple sclerosis, my friend, Judy, asked if I would still marry him. I thoughtfully and naively answered, yes. Yes I would.

Our Concert Choir planned a trip to Europe for the month of June. I wasn’t excited since my wedding trumped everything. Yet my parents insisted. We set our wedding for July 25, ’69, a month after I would return. My European trip did prove wonderful! With 31 kids for 31 days, we traveled and sang through Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Holland, Denmark, Italy, and France. Experiencing European culture and perspective changed me more than I realized at the time. I was growing up. However, I missed Conrad terribly and embarrassingly fell into his arms in sobs when I returned.

The day of our wedding arrived at 103° degrees. Conrad borrowed an air-conditioned station wagon to transport our wedding cake from Hanford to Fresno. When an officer pulled him over for speeding, Conrad told him it was his wedding day. The officer said he would wave the ticket if Conrad provided vehicle registration, which he could not.

Our wedding at the Butler MB Church was not until 8:00 p.m. because Mother wanted to give the Mennonite farmers time to get there. Ending the year in a whirlwind of exams, travel preparation, and the trip to Europe, I could not mentally or emotionally prepare myself for my wedding. I walked down the isle on my Dad’s arm in a surreal mixture of fact and fantasy. Our wedding was beautiful with eight attendants, and 300 guests. Conrad’s sister played the organ on auto pilot because she cried so hard. I sang, “Wither Though Goest,” Conrad publicly prayed for us, and six of our attendants sang to us. Conrad’s parents called from Singapore during the reception and my ten-year-old sister wept in my arms.

Photoshoots came after our wedding because I held to tradition—the groom not seeing the bride until she walks down the isle. We drove our ‘65 Ford Mustang, a wedding gift from my parents, all the way to Bakersfield that night because of Conrad’s concern that classmates might follow us, which they did not. We arrived at 3:00 a.m. absolutely exhausted! The first day as we walked along the beach, I looked at my rings feeling sudden panic of “What have I done?!” That night I told Conrad how I felt, we prayed together, and the fear left. We had enough money for a weekend honeymoon so spent the next couple days traveling the coast to Santa Barbara and Solvang.

Back at our new apartment at the Mennonite Seminary, our new life together began. . .