The emcee looked confused as Noah tugged on his sleeve and whispered something. With a shrug, he handed over the microphone.

My heart pounded. The room fell into a hush.

There was my little boy, standing in the center of the dance floor, clutching a microphone almost as big as his head. His tuxedo was wrinkled, his bowtie crooked, but his voice rang out clear:

“Hi. I’m Noah. I’m the ring bearer, and I’m nine.”

A few chuckles rippled through the guests, but Noah didn’t falter.

“I just want to say something about my mom. She’s the best person I know. She works really hard. She makes me pancakes every Saturday, even when she’s tired. And she always helps Uncle Daniel whenever he needs anything.”

I bit my lip, trying not to cry.

“My dad is in heaven, so it’s just me and my mom. And sometimes people don’t see how amazing she is. But I do. Uncle Daniel does too, even if he forgets. And I think everyone should know that my mom is the bravest, kindest, prettiest person here tonight.”