Imagine it’s the morning of your daughter’s wedding.

A small wedding by a pond on the prairie, followed by a huge reception in a big tent on the prairie.

You are at home watching rain gush from the sky. It’s raining so hard you can’t hear yourself think.

You are speechless. And you (Trixie Schmidt) are never speechless.

Then the phone rings.

Perhaps, the rest of you will think what follows is a lesson: The Value of Having a Plan B.

Or, you might believe: All the more reason to get married in a church.

But you would be wrong.

This is the story of Karli Schmidt and Zach Smith’s wedding last Saturday, as told through the eyes of the mother of the bride. (Parentheses mine.)

They wanted a wedding outside and we knew Spring Creek Prairie was a gorgeous venue.

We’d been there last fall and we were in the tent in a big wind and rainstorm so we knew bad weather wouldn’t be a problem.

The wedding was going to be at 5:30 down by the pond, just family and a few friends, very simple. And then we’d walk back up, have a little toast and the people would start coming.

(Pause here for Trixie to laugh.)

(Pause again for her to laugh some more.)

Saturday morning, Dave and I stood and looked out the window and we were stunned. It was like straight line rain. We didn’t even talk.

(That’s when the phone rang.)

The staff at Spring Creek had gone out early and they said: “We’re sorry to tell you this but a river of water washed down the hill into the tent.”

The tent was a muddy mess. There was no way we could have the reception there. I was stuttering like I am now. The wedding was in eight hours.

(They would need to find a new place for the many, many guests whose presence they had requested to help celebrate this most special of days.)

After we got our brains to work, we just started to make phone calls looking for a place that would hold 450 people.

(The Cornhusker? Taken. Holiday Inn? Booked. Denton Community Center? Full.)

One of the groomsmen sets up sound systems at the Rococo and he said he would call there. By 11, they said they’d move a prom dinner for 60 to the second floor and we could hold the reception in the theater.

(Perfect. Except all the chairs and tables and linens and flowers and decorations and catering equipment were in a mud pit on the prairie.)

Karli and I drove out there together. The ditches were flooded and the roads were flooded and one minute we were laughing and then we were crying and then we were laughing again.

(Karli had planned a leisurely wedding day, with only a hair appointment and nail appointment to occupy the hours before picture-taking at 3:30.)

By the time we got there, dozens of people were there already, family and friends. They undecorated the tables and loaded up the plates and silver and tables.

(Meanwhile, friends started a phone calling tree to contact all the wedding and reception guests to tell them NOT to drive to Denton.)

It was remarkable. Only one person drove to the prairie, out of all those guests. When we got to the Rococo, there were 50 or 75 people there to help unload and set up the reception. And guess what? The room was the perfect size for all those tables, like it was meant to be.

(Karli didn’t make it to her nail and hair appointments. They came to her. And not just that, the caterer, the cake lady, flower lady, the bartenders, the band, everyone adjusted.)

Some family members showered. Some didn’t. At 4 o’clock we started taking pictures. Someone suggested we walk down to campus. Someone else said, “Look at the sky!” So we took some in the alley, where the wind and the rain wasn’t so bad.

By 5:30, family and friends were coming and someone said, “Well, sit down. We’re having a wedding,” and we did.

(The reception was wonderful. Dancing. Toasting. Eating. And by Monday morning, the mother of the bride had her voice back.)

It might sound weird, but it was fun. I looked around and I thought this is the essence of life and marriage. It’s the overcoming of adversity. It’s the coming together of family and friends to help out the people they love.

That moment with Karli in the car when we were laughing and crying. That’s just precious to me. I’ll never forget it.

(FYI: The bride and groom plan to honeymoon in Costa Rica in September. They hope it’s not the rainy season.)

Reach Cindy Lange-Kubick at 473-7218 or clangekubick@journalstar.com.