Example 1: Cousin of the bride and maid of honor, heartfelt with a few laughs
620 words · about 5 min spoken
Hello everyone, I’m Nadia—Layla’s cousin, partner in crime, and, for tonight, her maid of honor. My mom, Mariam, and Layla’s dad, Karim, are sister and brother, so Layla and I have been side by side our whole lives. She’s only four months older, but somehow when we were kids, that made her the boss. We grew up just ten minutes apart in Dearborn, and every Sunday, without fail, we’d be at our grandparents’ house, squeezed around the kitchen table with the rest of the cousins. That table is still standing, and so is our spot at it—even if we’re a little taller now.
Our grandfather, Jiddo, always called us “the twins,” which was funny considering we look nothing alike—unless you count the matching mint stains from all our backyard adventures. One summer when we were nine, Jiddo told us he’d buried gold in the yard back in the day. Layla took this very seriously. She drew a full treasure map on graph paper, with a legend, a compass, and lots of exclamation points. We spent the summer digging up half of Teta’s poor mint patch and found—after all that—a single rusty bottle cap. Layla still keeps it framed on her desk as a reminder that sometimes you really do find treasure, just maybe not the kind you expect.
For as long as I can remember, Layla has been the one who keeps our family together. She’s scanned every photo in Teta’s albums and texts us old pictures almost every week. If someone at a party is off to the side, she’s the first to notice and go over. She’s the reason our family group chat is so lively, and probably the reason we all know exactly what we looked like in 2003—unfortunately for us.
Being her maid of honor this spring meant I got to see her in full planning mode. At her very first dress fitting, she pulled out a photo of Teta’s wedding in Beirut, 1957, and asked the seamstress to copy the lace sleeves. If you look at Layla tonight, you’ll see Teta’s sleeves, a little bit of history right here with us.
And now there’s Ben. The first time he came to Sunday lunch, Jiddo challenged him to backgammon, which is basically our family’s version of the SATs. Ben had never played. He lost three games in twenty minutes, which, honestly, is a record. But instead of giving up, he asked Jiddo to teach him, and Jiddo grinned like he’d just won the lottery. Ben still hasn’t managed to win, but he shows up every Sunday, ready for another try. As someone who’s lost plenty of games myself, I respect the dedication.
I admire Layla and Ben as a couple because they just fit—Layla the planner, and Ben who will go along with any plan as long as there’s a snack stop. Ben makes Layla laugh at herself, and Layla makes sure Ben gets places on time. He’s even learning Arabic on an app so he can talk to Teta without Layla translating—which, frankly, is braver than facing Jiddo at backgammon.
I want to thank Uncle Karim and Aunt Rania for hosting, Ben’s family for making the trip up from Nashville, and of course, Teta and Jiddo, who are living proof that true love means never leaving the dance floor early—or letting anybody leave your table hungry or angry.
Layla and Ben, my wish for you is simple: keep a seat for each other at every table, keep showing up for Sunday lunch, and Ben—keep playing backgammon. One day it will happen.
(Raise your glass) To Layla and Ben—may your life together be full of laughter, love, and as much mint as you can handle. Cheers!
What the writer told Toastful to get this speech
- Speaker
- Nadia, cousin of the bride
- Relationship
- My mom, Mariam, and Layla's dad, Karim, are sister and brother. Layla is four months older than me, and we grew up ten minutes apart in Dearborn, Michigan. Every Sunday we were at our grandparents' house, where the two of us ran the kids' table in the kitchen. Our grandfather, Jiddo, nicknamed us 'the twins' even though we look nothing alike. Today I am her cousin and her maid of honor.
- Personality
- Layla is the one who keeps our family connected. She scanned every photo album in Teta's house and texts the cousins an old picture almost every week. She's also the person who notices when someone at a party is standing alone and goes straight over to them.
- First impression
- At Ben's first Sunday lunch, Jiddo challenged him to backgammon, which is how Jiddo sizes everyone up. Ben had never played. He lost three games in twenty minutes, then asked Jiddo to teach him properly. Jiddo told the whole table nobody had asked him that in years. Ben has come back almost every Sunday since, and he still hasn't won a game.
- Stories
- When we were nine, Jiddo told us he had buried gold in the backyard when he first bought the house. Layla drew a treasure map on graph paper, with a legend and a compass, and we spent the whole summer digging. We dug up half of Teta's mint patch and found one rusty bottle cap. Layla still keeps it in a little frame on her desk. And as her maid of honor, I went to every dress fitting this spring. At the first one, Layla pulled out a photo of Teta on her wedding day in Beirut in 1957 and asked the seamstress to copy the lace sleeves. Look closely tonight: those are Teta's sleeves.
- Family traditions
- Sunday lunch at Teta and Jiddo's house, where the cousins still sit at the kitchen table even though we're all adults now. Teta's rule is that nobody leaves her table hungry or angry.
- The couple
- Layla plans everything, and Ben will happily go along with any plan as long as there's a snack stop. He makes her laugh at herself, and she gets him places on time. He's learning Arabic on an app so he can talk to Teta without Layla translating.
- Thank-yous
- Layla's parents, Uncle Karim and Aunt Rania, for hosting. Ben's family, who drove up from Nashville. And Teta and Jiddo, who are 88 and 91 and were the last ones dancing at the rehearsal dinner last night.
- Wishes
- Keep a seat for each other at every table. Keep coming to Sunday lunch. And Ben, keep playing Jiddo at backgammon. One day it will happen.