“Marry my daughter? The answer is no.
Too young, no job, years of college to go.”
The father stood up, and pushed back his chair.
Sized up the young man, barely nineteen, with long hair.
“I’ve made my decision. Young marriages don’t last.”
The boy walked away, with his eyes downcast.
The boy, now grown, takes the father’s arm
Helps him over the rocks, keeps him from harm.
The climb has been steep, despite the tram ride
But at the top of the mountain, there waits a young bride.
With another young groom holding her hand.
She smiles as she sees them, her grandpa and her dad.