She had a cookie in one hand and a picture book in the other.
She looked up.
“Daddy!”
I crossed the room and sat beside her.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
She studied my face.
“Have you been crying?”
“A little.”
“Because you’re sad?”
I nodded.
“And because I’m remembering Mommy.”
Lily put down her cookie.
“I remember Mommy too.”
She leaned against my chest.
“She used to sing the princess song.”
I closed my eyes.
Nora had made up a silly song about a princess who refused to wear a crown because it gave her a headache.
Lily had insisted on hearing it every night.
I hadn’t thought about that song in years.
Grandma entered carrying a small wooden box.
It was painted pale blue, with tiny white flowers along the edges.
I recognized it.
Nora had kept it on a shelf in our bedroom.
After she died, I searched for it but couldn’t find it.
Grandma set the box on the coffee table.
“Your mommy asked me to keep this safe,” she told Lily.
My daughter immediately sat up.
“Mommy’s box?”
Grandma nodded.
Lily carefully opened the lid.
Inside was a photograph of Nora holding her as a baby.
Beneath it rested a silver bracelet with a tiny star.
There was also a folded piece of paper.
And a small fabric pouch.
Lily opened the pouch first.
Inside was a silver charm shaped like a crown.
She smiled.
“A princess crown!”
Grandma gently unfolded the paper.
“Your mommy wrote you a letter, sweetheart. Would you like Daddy to read it?”
Lily nodded eagerly.
I took the page.
My hands were trembling.
My beautiful Lily,
If you’re reading this, I hope you know that you were the greatest gift your daddy and I ever received.
You don’t need a crown to be a princess. You don’t need an expensive dress to be beautiful. And you don’t need to be wealthy to be important.
Be kind when others are unkind. Be brave when you’re frightened. And remember that the people who truly love you will never make you feel small.
