Most mornings, I wake up so early that I didn’t even set an alarm for the royal wedding. Sure enough, my eyes popped open around 3 a.m., just in time to join Oprah and the Clooneys at the church and wait for Harry and Meghan to arrive.
Southern Living posts regular stories about the royals on our website and Facebook page, and we can count on complaints in the comments. Stop it with the royals, Southern Living! Nobody cares! But here’s the thing. Thousands of people click on those stories and share them. Somebody does indeed care about the Queen and her kin. Witness the throngs of admirers who lined the streets of London yesterday, camping out for hours, maybe days, to get even a fleeting glimpse of the bride and groom—not to mention those of us “across the Pond” who were glued to our TV sets.
In Britain, I’m sure there’s an appreciation for shared history and tradition at work. And over here, there’s the novelty of it, since we have no royal family. But I think there’s something else—beauty.
We’re all drawn to it. We all long for it. We’ll stop our day for an hour to experience it. And I’m not just talking about the designer dresses and color-coordinated fascinators. I’m talking about our need to believe in the beauty and power of love, which a wonderfully fiery minister talked about during the wedding. And we want hope for the future—all those cute little members of the wedding party trying hard to behave like small adults instead of running up and down the church aisle, which is what they probably wanted to do. We want to believe things can go well, that it will turn out all right in the end.
True hope for the future, of course, doesn’t lie with page boys and flower girls. But they can remind us that it’s there. And ultimate beauty in the world doesn’t come from a bride and groom—even a royal one. But maybe they just reminded us that it’s possible.