Oh, it seemed so long ago – mainly because it was.

Yes, being the Valentine Princess for my sorority was important to me then, but after many, many (unnamed) years, the fond memory of yesteryear was pushed back and almost forgotten – that is, until my young granddaughter found the tiara.

Deep down into a spare closet packed away in a box of assorted ornaments of a lifetime was a small glittery tiara still effervescent after many years of waiting in a closet to be rediscovered. That discovery was announced with a squeal of pure delight followed by a thousand questions.

“Me, Maw, Me Maw, did this little tiara belong to you? Were you a princess? It’s so beautiful. Can I have it? Please give it to me.”

I didn’t give it to her immediately, although I think she was sure that it would belong to her one day. Instead, she and I reminisced over and over about that grand time when Me Maw was crowned Valentine Princess.

During the next several weeks, she never tired of the story. She wanted to know about the crown, what I wore? Was Pe Paw with me? It was precious time spent with my only granddaughter.

I dug around the house and found some old photographs of me wearing that wonderful tiara. The photographs showed me wearing a pretty pink dress with a pink rosebud corsage on my wrist. Yes, Pe Paw was with me, and I’m happy to report that he is still with me today.

A few weeks later, while shopping, I found a sweet little pink tee shirt that read, I didn’t ask to be a princess, but if the tiara fits? How perfect, I thought, since there was a July birthday for my little grand. So a few days later I placed the tiara inside of the tee shirt in pretty “Happy Birthday” wrapping paper and made it ready for my little princess.

The day of the party was total confusion — the norm for a happy child’s birthday party. I was not near the ripple of excitement when the “birthday girl” tore through her gifts, but I heard the squeal all right — the same delighted squeal as when she first discovered the Valentine Princess tiara followed by an excited but sweet voice of my favorite little girl.

“Me Maw, did you really give it to me? Thank you, Me Maw. I love you.”

A couple of months passed and I had not thought again about the wonderful honor that I had once received being named as Valentine Princess — at least wonderful in the eyes of my little granddaughter. I was visiting her home, and one of her younger cousins stopped by, too, along with his mom. My granddaughter brought the three-year-old little boy over to me for a formal introduction, although I’ve known the child since the time of his birth. Then, with the respect and honor due a member of royalty, she proceeded to, I suppose, impress the little child as she said in a rather proud voice, “This is your Aunt Anne. She-e-e was a Valentine Princess.” The kid gave me a blank stare and continued to suck the daylights out of his sippy cup.

The moment was gone in a flash, but in the mind of this Me Maw, it will last an eternity.

I have one more surprise for my granddaughter. It seemed that I was named Valentine Queen at a later time and at another function. However, I think I will keep that tiara for myself. You just never know when a girl, even a “Me Maw-type girl” such as I might need a little snippet of royalty like a fancy tiara.

Hey, it could happen.

Anne B McKee is a Mississippi historian, writer and storyteller. She is listed on the Mississippi Humanities Speakers Bureau and Mississippi Arts Commission’s Performing Artist and Teaching Artist Rosters. See her web site: www.annemckeestoryteller.com