A Bride’s Heartfelt Path

Hani stood quietly by the window, the soft morning light brushing against her veil like a blessing. Her heart fluttered with nerves, joy, anticipation but underneath all of it was a feeling that wrapped around her more gently than any lace or silk.

Gratitude.

On the small round table beside her rested her bridal bouquet, a pastel dream of purple roses, blush pink petals and creamy white tulips. The silver foliage framed the blooms like a soft halo, giving the entire arrangement a peaceful glow. Hani reached out and touched one of the petals, smiling at what it represented.

Each flower carried a story, colour, a memory and every memory was tied to someone she cherished. The purple roses were for her sister, Hana. Growing up, they had shared everything like secrets whispered under blankets, late-night maggi on stressful exam nights, and the kind of unshakeable loyalty only sisters understood.  The blush pink roses reminded her of her grandmother. The woman who raised her when her parents were busy working. Her grandmother’s hands were always warm. Even now, though her grandmother moved slowly with age, she insisted on attending the ceremony. “I want to see my flower get married,” she had said, smiling with eyes that still shone with love.

Finally the white tulips… They were for Arif. The man waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Arif wasn’t flashy or dramatic, but he was steady, gentle, and unbelievably patient. He listened to her dreams as if they were sacred. He stood beside her through failures she thought she’d never recover from.

As she lifted the bouquet to her chest, Hani felt her breath hitch. Gratitude swelled inside her, not loud or overwhelming, but deep, steady, and warm. She realised that today wasn’t just about beginning a marriage. It was about honouring every act of love that helped her grow into the woman standing here now.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Hani? It’s time.”

She turned, her veil softly trailing behind her. With each step, she carried more than flowers. She carried her sister’s encouragement, her grandmother’s warmth, and Arif’s unwavering love. Today, gratitude wasn’t spoken in speeches or written in cards.

It bloomed quietly in her hands and in her heart. As she walked toward a future built on every kindness that brought her here.