My mother-in-law keeps a tiara on her
bedroom dresser, not an expensive one but it is invaluable to her. She was chosen Winter Queen at a senior
citizen Christmas banquet a few years ago.
It not only surprised her but pleased her as well.
Ask about that magical night and she
will go on and on about how she and my father-in-law attended the banquet so he
could accept an award for Senior Citizen Volunteer of the Year, and she stole the
stage by unexpectedly winning the “beauty pageant.”
I cannot blame her. I had a similar honor bestowed on me back
when I was in the 8th grade.
Catholics celebrate the Virgin Mary,
Mother of Jesus, throughout the month of May, and on May 1st, our K-8th
Catholic school would choose one 8th grade girl to crown the tall
statue of Mary that sat in the courtyard between the school and the convent of
nuns who were our teachers. On the Sunday closest to the 1st of May,
we would proceed from the church after Mass, parade around the parking lot and
the school grounds, praying the rosary.
The young girl would lead the procession right behind the priest and the
altar boys. She would carry a crown of
flowers to place on the Virgin Mother’s head while everyone stood around and
watched.
The girl was chosen by popular
vote. Her 8th grade
classmates would nominate several girls and the kids would raise their hands
and vote for their choice while the nominees stood out in the hallway awaiting
the results.
There were five names and I was one of
them. Being nominated was a surprise and
an honor in itself. The most popular
girl got nominated first, and all the boys in the room swooned in unison. I was third in the mix, among several really
sweet friends, the kind of girls who treated everyone with smiles and kindness. When they called us back into the room, the
teacher announced I had won by an almost unanimous vote. I was stunned. Why
me?
My socks never stayed hiked up and my hair
never stayed combed down. I weighed 80 lbs and most of it was the unibrow I had
grown the summer before. I was the
caterpillar before it becomes the butterfly, the ugly duckling before it morphs
into a swan. If they wanted a virgin to
crown the Virgin, I was it. I had the
look of one destined to stay a virgin for a very long time.
On the fateful day, I lead the
procession, climbed onto the tall ladder, and placed a crown of roses on Mary’s
statue – all without stumbling, scraping my knees, or flashing my underwear to
the boys standing underneath. (But just
in case, I remember wearing my better pair of unmentionables.)
It’s been years. No one remembers that day except for me. It was long before cell phones so there are
no pictures or mementos of that day, but I know just how proud my mother-in-law
must feel about being crowned the Winter Queen.
I too will remember forever the day I
beat out all the other girls in the 8th grade - the day I was chosen
Queen of the May.
No comments:
Post a Comment