(By Michael Quintanilla. This aricle, of same title, was posted by Michael in the San Antonio news paper, and then again in Houston Chronicals.)
During the holiday season, generosity shows up in expected ways: a free turkey and pie dinner at the convention center, a toy drive by Elf Louise, coins tossed into a Salvation Army kettle.
And then sometimes a minute of kindness among strangers – the sort that brings home the heart of Christmas – materializes when least expected. That’s what happened to bride-to-be Chrysalis Autry, 26, when she walked into the Bridal Salon of San Antonio two days after Thanksgiving and met the shop’s owner, Amy Wells.
On Thanksgiving night, after a house full of relatives said good night, Autry’s father, Jack, 65, an accomplished girls basketball coach at Holmes High School, was rushed by EMS to Methodist Hospital; in September he had received a diagnosis of melanoma.
He insisted that his daughter, who will graduate in May from the dental school at the University of Texas Health Science Center, keep her appointment to try on wedding gowns for her mother, her future mother-in-law and other relatives visiting from Houston.
Ten dresses later, Chrysalis settled on an ivory duchess silk and satin dress. But Chrysalis told Wells she couldn’t buy the gown right then and there. Her father was in the hospital, terribly ill. The family needed to hold onto their money.
It was then that Wells, a woman of profound faith in God and trust in people, insisted that Chrysalis “take this gown and veil to the hospital and wear it for your daddy now. Please do it.”
Chrysalis fell into Wells’ arms, crying. She called her mother, Madelyn, into the dressing room and soon she, too, was in tears.
Wells packed the gown and hugged Chrysalis goodbye. No credit card was taken, no deposit exchanged.
Wells didn’t know the young woman’s last name and didn’t ask for a phone number.
Chrysalis remembers asking Wells, “What if we get the dress dirty?” Wells replied, “It’s a piece of fabric.”
Says Wells about that day: “I knew it was fine. There was no doubt in my mind to do this. God was talking to me.”
Three hours later, after arranging to have one of her two brothers, R.J. Autry, meet them at the hospital with a video camera, the family – and wedding dress – were on the 10th floor where her father, heavily medicated to keep him comfortable, she says, was resting.
Behind the suite’s sliding doors, Chrysalis put on the gown and veil as family members awoke her father on the other side of the suite.
The doors were slowly opened, and there stood Chrysalis, engulfed in a dropped-waist pouf of 15 yards of layered, billowing silk. Her father was able to stay alert for 20 seconds.
“But those 20 seconds were magical,” Chrysalis says.
“My daddy saw me walk in wearing the most beautiful dress. He was really weak. He smiled and just kept looking at me. I held his hand, and he held mine. I asked him if I looked like a princess. He always called me that, a little princess. He nodded. He looked at me a little more, and it almost looked like he was about to cry. And then he went to sleep.”
Three days later, Jack Autry, husband of 42 years and father of three grown children, died.
His funeral followed four days after. (One of Chrysalis’ friends returned the dress to the shop the day her father died.)
Chrysalis has returned to her studies. She and her fiance, Mark Heinkel, 28, are planning to get married Oct. 28 at the Southwest School of Art.
Other wedding-day details must be worked out during the next 10 months, but one thing is for certain: the wedding dress.
“I want that to be the dress,” she says, recalling the gentleness expressed by Wells on that day in November, a gesture that has meant so much more to Chrysalis because of the holidays – a message of simple kindness she does not want to get lost in the hustle of the season.
“This woman had never met me before. She trusted me and showed me that there are still some really good people out there, special people in this world,” she says about Wells’ compassion.
“It’s every little girl’s dream to have her dad see her in a wedding dress. She let my dad and I have that amazing moment.”
)
) I can imagine that you may wish your daughter wasn’t pregnant at her wedding, and for that I am sorry.” He made eye contact with me and looked so sad. I continued, as I patted his knee, “But she is, in fact, carrying in her tummy a precious child and your grandchild, a gift. It’s a beautiful gift, just bad timing.”