Eight year old Edith O'Donnell sat stubbornly at the top of the stairs and ignored the nanny's repeated pleas that she head to bed.
"I'm not going to sleep until Daddy's here." She insisted with a pout while tossing dark bobbed hair, which severely tested the woman's patience. Within the minute, a strong arm was dragging her through the hallway despite her cries of pain and struggle to break away.
Even so, Edith found the determination to remain awake long into the night until a door slammed downstairs and she recognized the voices of her parents.
They soon arrived by her side and she smiled tiredly in bliss at the faces of her stylish mother and dignified father, before finally nodding off in peace.
Edith glided elegantly down the aisle while accompanied by her father, whom despite wearing what looked like a proud smile, possessed eyes that were filled with nothing but sadness.
Once they had reached the groom, a portly man with graying hair whom was several years Edith's senior. Ernest left slowly for the pews to sit beside six year old granddaughter Grace, his only source of consolation being that the little girl would finally have a father whom would properly provide for her.
"Thomas Walter Donovan, do you take this woman to be your wife?"
Edith hesitated when the priest turned to her and rephrased the earlier question, wondering if she really had the emotional strength to stay faithful to such a cold and aging man.
A glance at the shabby clothes her family's shabby clothes forced her to put aside selfish desires and instead do what would benefit the majority.
She gave an affirmative answer and Thomas took her hand, signalling that they would be bound to each other as long as they were both alive.