It was a Saturday morning in spring. I was out running errands when I saw a garage sale sign on a quiet side street. Normally, I wouldn’t have stopped, but something tugged at me. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was because I’d been thinking so much about my own wedding lately.

The yard was filled with mismatched furniture, boxes of old records, and racks of clothing. I wandered through, picking up a few small things, when a glimmer of white fabric caught my eye. Hanging from a wooden rack was a wedding gown — aged, but still elegant.