I have a confession to make. Before I started working here at the Herald Journal, I would get a little annoyed with all the royalty photos I would see in the paper.
These are the girls who represent their respective towns as either ambassadors, princesses, or queens.
Not realizing that this paper covers seven communities and tries to cover them fairly, I didn’t know where all these girls in gowns were coming from. It’s not like I took the time to read the captions!
Now, these girls do a lot for their respective communities and donate oodles of time that I’m sure I wouldn’t have been willing to do in high school. Before I started working here, I didn’t pay attention to that or recognize their efforts. I simply had a bad attitude toward them for an unjustifiable reason.
So, with this in mind, when I was assigned photo coverage of a coronation for the first time, I was a little irritable.
I dreaded the idea of sitting through such an event on a warm, Sunday evening. I grumbled to myself as I walked through the doors and looked into a sea of formal dresses and perfect heads of hair.
I tried to keep my head pointed toward the floor as I walked with furrowed eyebrows to my seat.
Once the ceremony began, all the visiting royalty were announced, one town at a time. There must have been 30 groups of girls representing their respective towns, and I tried not to let anyone see me as I sat in my seat rolling my eyes and wishing for a quick end to the evening.
The candidates were introduced, and the out-going royalty were led up the aisle as if it were their wedding day. This is where I not only rolled my eyes yet again, but said some things under my breath that the person next to me likely heard. My attitude was going south in a hurry.
Once the out-going girls started talking about their experiences they enjoyed during their reign, my heart started to soften. I saw them in a different light, and their genuine emotion about the conclusion of their duties struck a chord. So much so, that I found myself welling up with tears and searching for kleenex!
I didn’t even know these girls and five minutes earlier I wanted to trip them!
Well, I learned a lot about those royal representatives that night, and softened quite a bit. I’ve witnessed their good deeds and give them credit for giving up most of their free time to volunteer at just about any event they are asked to attend.
So, the next time you see pictures of royalty in the paper, take a moment to read what they’ve been up to and maybe say thanks the next time you see them out and about town.
I was trying to get my 7-year-old to eat some baked chicken. I told him it was just like chicken nuggets, to which he replied in disgust, “No this is naked chicken!”