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Scottish War Bride—page 4
The wedding party
Our Certificate of Proclamation, which I still have, was called out three days in a row on the steps of the Cadzow Parish Church. We were married at the Manse by the Minister, Harkness Graham, Presbyterian Church of Scotland, who was blind, and knew more about Canada than Jimmy did. Mrs. Wilson, Aunt Jessie's mother, was standing at the gate when we came out of the Manse, and threw rice at us. At this time it was against the law to waste food, but she said, "I don't care, I am throwing rice at Jane's wedding." She gave us two beautiful butter dishes as a wedding gift, which I still have and treasure; they are just used on special occasions.

We had our reception at the Cadzow Welfare, the coal miners club where we first met. We had a band—accordion, dulcimer, and violin—one of the boys playing in the band had gone to the same school as me, he was of Italian origin. Mum had an awful time getting food for the wedding, so all our relatives and friends lined up at bakeries, and it was amazing how well everything turned out. There was not enough time to ice the cake, so it Marriage certificatewas plain. 

A tradition in Scotland at this time was that when the bride was picked up at her home, the husband to be was already in the special cab rented for wedding, along with the best man. As we pulled away from the house all the children in the neighbourhood knew there was a wedding taking place and were shouting, "Scramble the money!" The best man had to have lots of sixpences and threepenny bits.

The cab had a little window in the roof through which the best man threw out the money as we pulled away, watching the children scrambling to pick it up.

When it was time to go on our short honeymoon, the cab came to pick us up at the hall, and the chauffeur was one of the Wardens with the ARP, who said what a pleasure it was for him to drive us in to Glasgow.

Jimmy had booked us a bed and breakfast there. We had picked a busy time to get a hotel, as the English were playing the Scots in a soccer match, or "fitba" as the Scots say. I still have the paper tartan Scottish supporter's rosette Jimmy bought me that day.
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Reprinted with the permission of Jane Todd and The Fortyniner (No. 103, December, 2000): 25-32. 
 
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