When My Mother Wrote a Letter to the Queen
My mother was raised on a farm in Southern California, but her grandmother, Isabel, had been a Downton Abbey-era downstairs domestic at ‘a fine house’ outside London.
My mother was born on the Queen’s tenth birthday. This delighted her grandmother.
My mother adored her grandmother. Her grandmother adored the Queen.
During WWII, my mother’s family sent fresh fruit and vegetables to their bombed out, hungry, working-class relatives in England — to Isabel’s brothers and sisters and nieces and nephews.
Once, during the war, my mother and her grandmother Isabel were listening to news on the radio. Isabel was in her rocking chair, and it moved clear across the room as she rocked.
The broadcaster described young Princess Elizabeth, still a teenager then, having joined the ATS, repairing trucks and driving ambulances. He noted that the royal family refused to leave England during the war, faithfully staying with their people.
Isabel turned to my mother, who was then just a young girl of nine. “You share a birthday with that Princess whom the broadcaster is praising. You were born on her 10th birthday. She’s a decent sort, and does her duty.” Her eyes shifted to the window. “She may even be Queen one day.”
My mother envisioned this Princess, just nineteen, and thought of herself one day standing her ground, remaining calm in danger, inspiring people.
That afternoon they packed up more oranges and limes, persimmons and walnuts in a big crate and shipped it to London.
Years later, my mother wrote a letter to Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth. The letter mentioned their shared birthday, and the produce that had been sent to England from 1940–1945. My mother’s letter thanked the Queen for her own service in the War, doing truck repair, and for her majesty’s unfailing support of her people.
As just one small example of the warmth and organized consistency of that care, my mother received a return letter from one of Queen Elizabeth’s personal secretaries. It was a detailed reply that clearly indicated the original letter had been fully read and appreciated. The Queen thanked my mother’s family for her wartime support of British citizens, and wished her well. It was lovely.
There are so many arguments for and against the British monarchy. So many TV shows and tabloids and books that suggest the dysfunction and all the reasons to be, at least, cynical about it.
Yet, at its best, there is a case for a non-political institution that sincerely cares for and believes in the common wealth and common welfare of all, and which promotes the people of its country and the Commonwealth.
One NHS hospital visit, one state dinner, one ribbon-cutting, one disaster-area visit, one day of military service, one Christmas radio address at a time.
One letter at a time.
