Sleep was impossible the night before my big day! I awoke hours before the alarm woke me. The nerves in my stomach grew as the minutes passed. It was finally the day that we planned for. My dress was picked out, crowned cleaned, the hall was decorated and the food was cooking. The crown was going to be passed to me. I was going to become the Portuguese Queen of Selma, California in just a matter of hours. Now it was time for me to get my hair done, my make-up on and put my beautiful dress on.

Being Portuguese has always been a big importance to my family. As a tradition in the Portuguese community, the youngest girls spend years working up to become crowned in honor of Queen Isabella, Portugal’s most memorable queen. She gave everything she had to provide for the poor in her country. It is said that one day during a famine when times were at their very worst and poverty was high in the country, Queen Isabella prayed for her people. She prayed to God for food and help for the country. After she prayed she walked out of church and placed the only thing she had left to symbolize her royalty, her crown, on a poor girl’s head.

She told her people, “When the food comes I will have a feast for everyone.”

It was then that a dove landed on her crown and ships filled with food came into the harbor and the people feasted.

To recreate what Queen Isabella did for her people, queens from all over the state come to see the crowning of a city’s new queen which will serve a one year term. A newly crowned queen will then travel to other cities to see the crowning of their queen. The celebration also includes a feast of Sopas (Portuguese stew), free to anyone who would like to come. It is a huge celebration.

With a full day ahead of us we showed up at the church to take pictures of all the girls and boys dressed up for the celebration. There were the flower girls, the banner boys, gladiola girls, escorts, little queen, her attendants, the big queen an her attendants and so may more. After hours of pictures it was time to go to the hall and get set up for the parade.

When I arrived at the Portuguese hall, queens from all over were gathered and people of the community had arrived to watch. People were running around getting everyone ready and in line for the parade. It was time to get the show on the road, literally! We all walked miles to the church in 100 degree temperature on hot asphalt. The girls in big gowns were pulling heavy capes on their backs as were their escorts in their black tuxes, but none of us minded. The fun had just begun.

The church came into view with my relief because I was at the end of all the other cities’ queens in the parade. At the front of the church was the current Selma queen who would pass the crown to me. The next steps I would take would be the ones towards my becoming queen. She kissed the crown then held it out to me. I kissed it then the crown was placed in my hand. I was now the new queen that represented all the good works that Queen Isabella had done.

We went into the church for mass and for the blessing of my year in the position as queen. After mass ended I walked down the isle with crown above my head and tears in my eyes. I looked at my mother and I saw tears falling down her cheeks. It was thirty years to the day that she was handed down the same crown and I was following the tradition in her footsteps. I do not think she has ever been so proud.

Once out of the church it was back to the asphalt and out of the whole year as queen I remember this walk the most, It had gotten hotter and my arms burned from holding the crown above my head. With the sweat running down by face and my hands clammy, the crown began to slip. Then, I dropped it!

The thought that went to my head first was, “Everyone’s gonna hate me! I have to grab it before it hits the road.”

My hands flew out, my heart raced, and I grabbed the crown inches from the pavement with no harm done, at least to the crown. I, however, was as red as an apple with embarrassment.

“I hope nobody saw that,” I said out loud to one of my attendants who was laughing at me.

“Look at your mom!” she said. And, when I did, I saw my mom’s eyes wide and relief on her face. Now that is is over we laugh about it, but, at that time, it was no laughing matter.

With embarrassment over and everything okay, we arrived at the hall to eat. Finally, I was hot, hungry and a cold bottle of water with a big bowl of Sopas could not have sounded better. We all ate our fill and I did my duty of walking around talking to just about everyone who came to the festivities. I thanked everyone who came and even helped out with the auction where my grandmother’s homemade cookies sold for three hundred dollars!

It was then time for a break. We went to my grandparent’s house and we tried to sleep a little, but still the day was not over and the excitement for the night’s dance was keeping me awake. The hours before the dance dragged a little, but it was not too bad to wait. Actually, it was time to return before we all knew it.

When we came back to the hall we all lined up for the Grand March. It is a walk around the dance floor while the announcer introduces everyone involved in the celebration. Once the march was over it was time to dance. Of course during the dance there was the traditional American music, but the most fun was the Shamarita, a Portuguese dance similar to the Hokey Pokey mixed with Square Dancing. The most confusing part is that it is called out in Portuguese. My friends and I danced for hours on end and took the opportunity to relax and have fun in a not so formal manner. We had a blast!

Before we all knew it, the day and the celebration was over. The months of planning and stressing to get everything done on time was well worth the outcome of it all. As I rode home and away from the party the exhaustion kicked in and I fell asleep. Throughout my term I traveled all over California and met many new and very interesting people. The year that I was queen is one of my most favorite memories of my life.