On May 24, 1844, Samuel F.B. Morse sent a message from Washington to Baltimore: “What hath God wrought?” Morse’s telegraph was the first electronic transmission of information in the young United States, changing the face of the world. Now, as watches, phones, and computer screens bring us breaking news 24/7, Morse’s coded question still begs to be answered.
Because of these seemingly miraculous advances in technology, the eyes of the world were able to focus on a graceful young woman as she stepped into a church aisle on Saturday morning. Moving radiantly toward the marriage altar, she met her future father-in-law at the halfway point, and with a courtly manner, escorted her to the man of her dreams. When the breath-taking young woman met her beaming groom at the altar, People Magazine reports the ginger-haired man turned to the heir to the British throne and said, “Thank you, Pa.” Our misty eyes took in the magic of a royal wedding, with its designer dresses, hats and shoes, a celebrity-studded guest list, an elegant mother-of-the-bride complete with dreadlocks and nose-ring, and an impassioned gospel choir (my claim to fame is that one of its singers worked at the Salvation Army camp in Carrolton – you go, Wayne!).
I didn’t polish any silver, bake any scones, or steep any tea for the occasion, but I’ll admit to being sucked into the fairy princess story of Meghan Markle, an American actress who’s brought joy to the bonny Prince Harry, the young boy so bereft by his mother’s tragic death. While I’m not normally a royal watcher, I joined in this party, excited to catch a first glimpse of the “say yes to the dress” creation, charmed by the bright-eyed children in the wedding party, and pumped up by the preacher’s exuberance. The eyes of the world were on Harry and Meghan, and they came through with flying colors.
For one brief shining moment on Saturday morning, our eyes were distracted from the unpredictability of North Korea, the heartbreak of the most recent school shooting at Santa Fe High School, the playoff trials of the Cavs, and the tweetstorms emanating from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. For one brief shining moment, we could believe, as Anne Lamott often says, that “love bats last.” I’m guessing Bishop Michael Curry would say, “Amen to that, sister.”
As a child of royalty and a television series veteran, Harry and Meghan are used to being in the spotlight. As for me, while life in the palace might be fun for a bit, my knee creaks when I curtsy, so I’ll grudgingly let the new Duchess of Sussex live the royal life in my place. I’ll gladly stay under the radar, content with the royal title of Nana.
The people I know aren’t royalty and don’t live fairy tale lives. We’re not famous in the eyes of the world, and on our good days, we’re grateful to be beloved in the eyes of our pets and our grandchildren.
Approaching her third birthday (how can that be possible?), the delightful and determined Elizabeth Holiday likes to play by herself, creating imaginative scenarios with her dolls, with playdough, and with the dog (when he’s willing to cooperate). As she talks to her various characters, she repeats phrases she’s heard from her parents, her sister, and me. The resulting dialogue is often hilarious, peppered as it is with “I have birtday party,” “you go in time out,” and “I don’t want to,” but it’s also sobering, reminding me that the eyes of Elizabeth and her sister, the lovely Madelyn Simone, are on me, and their ears are listening as well. Like the paparazzi with the newlyweds, the girls are watching and waiting, storing up images and sound bites to be used at the most inopportune moment.
The eyes of the world were on Harry and Meghan for one brief shining moment, but in our own family circles and neighborhoods, the eyes of the children are on us. Might our words and actions be motivated by Bishop Curry’s reminder to the royal couple and to the world: “There’s power in love to show us the way to live.”
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