Example speech: golden wedding

The speech

Mum, Dad, family and friends,

on the fourteenth of August 1976 you got married in Brighton. Mum wore a dress she'd made herself. Dad wore a tie he'd borrowed from his brother. He never gave it back. Uncle Keith, it's still in the wardrobe.

I'm Karen, and today I'm also speaking for Mark and Susan. The three of us put together everything that came to mind about you two. It was far more than fits into a few minutes, so here's just the best of it.

You met in 1974 at a dance on Brighton Pier. Dad says he asked Mum to dance. Mum says she asked him, because he was taking far too long. Fifty years on, it's the one question you still haven't settled.

Then came the chapters. The first flat, two rooms and a gas fire Dad lit every morning at five before he left for the harbour at Shoreham. Mum's night shifts at the hospital. Three children, a terraced house with a garden, and a camper van that took us to Cornwall every summer. With a paper map. And with discussions about the paper map. The camper van is still in the drive, by the way. So is the map, in the glovebox.

We learned early to be quiet on Saturday mornings. Not because anyone asked us to, but because Dad took us down to the harbour so Mum could sleep after her night shift.

When the three of us think of you, we think of Sunday mornings. You're at the kitchen table with the newspaper between you, doing the crossword together. One of you writes a word, then it's the other's turn. Nobody gets two words in a row. That's how you've done almost everything: taking turns, patiently, and always leaving room for the other one to add something.

And then there's the garden. Dad plants, Mum harvests. Dad calls that a division of labour. Mum calls it experience. Every year the tomatoes are the best on the street, and both of you take the compliment personally.

Dad, you once told me the secret is never to go to bed on an argument. Mum, you told me the secret is letting Dad believe he won it before bed. I suspect you are both right.

You never explained to us how a marriage works. We saw it every Sunday at the kitchen table.

Gold is a metal that doesn't rust. You just have to pick it up now and then so it keeps its shine. I think that's exactly what you've been doing for fifty years.

We wish you many more Sundays with tea and the crossword. One more trip to Cornwall, this time with a satnav, to keep the peace. And may you never agree on who asked whom to dance. Some questions are better left open.

Everyone, please raise your glasses. To the happy couple. To Pat and Graham.

Why this speech works

• An opening with a date and a detail: the homemade dress and the borrowed tie take the guests back to 1976, and Uncle Keith gets his laugh.
• One voice for three siblings: Karen says at the start who she's speaking for. The stories come from all three of them.
• Chapters as pictures: the gas fire, the night shifts, the camper van. A few chapters, each with a detail you can see.
• What makes them work: the Sunday crossword explains their marriage better than any advice.
• The anniversary's name as an image: gold appears once, carried by the stories before it, not as decoration.
• A callback to close: the unsettled question from the dance returns in the wishes and closes the circle before the toast.