The day my best friend got married could have been considered a disaster. After a perfect summer of perfect weather, the last weekend of August seemed like it would, naturally, be the perfect day for a wedding. Instead, our perfect summer ended with the biggest storm in a decade. Heading to the church, strong winds and heavy rain knocked over trees and power lines, leaving the reception venue with no power. Unless the power miraculously came back on, we would be left without a venue. Taking the day one moment at a time we got to the church, lined up, and headed into the ceremony to watch what we had all come there for: to see two people commit their lives to choosing each other every day. After the ceremony, we stood in a circle and tightly held hands waiting and praying for the call which would tell us if the venue had power or if we needed to move the reception to the church (which unknowing to us had been marked as a city safe spot and therefore still had power). The call came and we wiped away our tears before getting to work. What could have been a time of frustration and anger and disappointment became a memory of the whole-hearted, selfless, and joyful love of a beautiful community.