In the year of our Lord two thousand five and twenty, upon the second day of September, the House of Windsor gathered in solemnity and splendor to mark the eightieth remembrance of Victory in Europe, when in the year 1945 the great conflict was brought to its end.
Amidst the noble company of King Charles III and Queen Camilla, of Prince William and his lady Catherine, Princess of Wales, and of many lords and ladies of the realm, there stood upon the balcony of Buckingham Palace the young Princess Charlotte, lately turned ten summers. By her side were her brethren, Prince George, heir second to the throne, of eleven years, and Prince Louis, seven years of age, whose laughter lightened the day.
The gathering beheld the martial procession and the soaring of the King’s aeronautical host, the Red Arrows, who did paint the heavens with red, white, and blue in tribute to valor past. The multitude watched in reverence, yet their gaze was oft drawn to the tender bond of mother and child. For lo, Princess Charlotte turned to her mother, the fair Catherine, and with sweet voice declared her love, saying, “Mother, I love thee.”
This utterance, though simple, did melt the hearts of all who beheld it, for in that moment was mirrored the eternal bond of affection, stronger than crowns or kingdoms. The Princess of Wales, gentle in spirit, reached forth to set right the braid of her daughter’s hair, and together they spake and smiled as though the burdens of rule were lifted from them.
There too stood the royals of the realm: Princess Anne, steadfast in duty; Prince Edward, Duke of Edinburgh, and his consort Sophie; Vice Admiral Sir Timothy Laurence, and the venerable Duke of Kent. All arrayed in solemn dignity, they bore witness to the commemoration.
The King himself, with son and courtiers, clad in the garb of soldiery, gave homage to the veterans of that most grievous war, saluting their sacrifice. By decree of the Royal Household were words of remembrance proclaimed to the people: “We pay tribute to all who served in the Second World War.” So was the duty of memory fulfilled.
And in the great annals of imagery, there was set side by side the likeness of this day and that of yore, when Princess Elizabeth, she who would be Queen, stood in martial dress with her father King George VI, her mother Queen Elizabeth, and her sister Margaret, upon that very balcony in the year of our Lord 1945. Thus was the golden thread of lineage and remembrance woven together across the ages.
When the ceremonies were ended, the royals withdrew within the palace halls. Prince George, bearing the weight of destiny, did join in a tea of fellowship with veterans and elders, a noble act for one yet young, yet fashioned for greatness.
So began a week of remembrance, to culminate upon the eighth day of May, when Prince William and Princess Catherine were to give thanks in holy Westminster Abbey, honoring the sacrifice of that steadfast generation whose deeds wrought peace for all.
Yet among all the grandeur and solemnity, it was the simple cry of Princess Charlotte — “Mother, I love thee” — that echoed deepest in the hearts of the people, a reminder that amidst crowns and kingdoms, love endureth forever.
