Dance. Dance. Dance.

Plates were filled with fresh fruit, salad, salty and sweet.

The room that had been a buzz of conversation stopped.

You could hear a pin drop. And in the silence, a glass broke but nobody cared.

The father of the bride was on his feet.

He lifted his glass.

"Gezuar!"

Then the folk band began to play,

A Circle

As the music filled the air, people stood up one by one.

It seemed random at the time but I would later learn, there was a strict order of who would get up, when and for how long.

Soon the entire banquet hall was bursting with joy as we formed a circle, holding hands for traditional folk dances.

Raining Money

As others came up to dance briefly with the bride, they dropped money on the ground.

Some followed an old tradition of sticking a bill on her forehead.

Others threw bills in the air so it came raining down.

When a kid tried to run and grab the money, his mom quickly pulled him back and scolded him.

More Than a Dance

I stumbled over and over again, and nobody minded. By the time I left, I found myself connected with the people there, with the joy, the celebration, and rich traditions lasting thousands of years.

In the dance of life, every moment counts.