My Meeting with Princess Diana Part 1

When I served as the rabbi of the New West End Synagogue, I lived in London’s West End, in Bayswater, about two hundred yards from Kensington Palace. My children would play in the playground just outside the palace and often the red Royal Airforce helicopter bearing Princess Diana, would land outside the palace, and the princess would get out of the helicopter, wave to us, and then enter the palace. We often heard Diana’s helicopter hovering perilously over our house, late at night,  as she returned to the Palace following an engagement.

Then, it happened. On November 29, 1996, I went into my local barbershop, Lucas’ Hair Salon, on Bayswater Road, to get a haircut. There was a blond teenager getting his hair cut by my Greek Cypriot barber, Lucas, and there was a young woman sitting next to him who looked very much like Diana, the Princess of Wales. I turned to a middle-aged man sitting by the window and whispered,

“Is that the Princess?”

With a shrug of the shoulders, he replied, “I don’t know.” (It turns out that he was her security guard.)

A young woman ran into the shop and said breathlessly to the Princess, “May I have a photograph with you?”

Diana replied, “I would rather not, thank you.”

Then I knew for sure that it was the Princess.

I nodded to the Princess as I sat down on the sofa opposite her and she nodded back.

I mustered up the courage and I said, “I am the rabbi of the local synagogue, around the corner, in St. Petersburgh Place—”

She cut me off in mid-sentence and said: “You mean rabbis can take a half an hour off for a haircut?”

I rose to the occasion and replied, “It seems that even princesses can take half an hour off for a haircut!”

In an amazing “coincidence”, the following night, Motzai Shabbos was to be a gala Cantorial concert in my shul with Cantor Malovany from New York and Chazzan Herstik from Jerusalem.  I had written a letter to Princess Diana  eight months earlier, inviting the Princess to join us at our synagogue for the following night’s cantorial concert, on November 30, 1996, but the Princess wrote back that she was otherwise engaged. I reminded her of this invitation. “But thank you for inviting me,” she said.

Diana had just revealed to the British people her impending problems with her marriage and her personal issues and I said, “Princess, in Hebrew we have a saying, ‘chazak v’ematz—be strong and of good courage.’ I wish the Princess well.”

I got up to get my hair washed and then realized that the teenager in the barber chair next to the Princess, was none other than Prince William, the future King of England. Only his hairdresser knows for sure that Prince William has mousse put in his hair. After my hair wash, I went to sit down in Lucas’ chair, the very barber chair just vacated by Prince William. I thought to myself: I’m sitting in the very same chair as the future King of England! I “vowed” then that I would never wash my trousers again.

That night was Friday night and, after my wife lit the Shabbat candles, I said the traditional kiddush blessings over the wine. Then I turned to my wife and kids and said,

“You’ll never guess who I met today!”

After a few guesses, I told them, “I met the Princess of Wales! In fact I sat in the very same chair as Prince William, the future King of England!” After the excitement died down, I said the following to my young children,

“You know something? He is a king…. and I am also a king! Diana is a queen….and Mommy is also a queen. Look at our Shabbat table-fit for a king and a queen. And you children are the loyal citizens of the realm. We are all dressed in our finest Shabbat clothes. Our finest china and crystal are sparkling on the table in honor of the Shabbat Queen. And, me and Mommy are king and queen of our house, not because we are in charge of the house. The essence of kingship is that a king and queen care for their subjects and provide for their welfare. I, too, am a king and Mommy is a queen, because we look after you children and care for you and provide for you and encourage you and love you. We perform the same role that kings and queens perform for their subjects.

You and I have the capacity to be a king or a queen. The problem is that we often sell ourselves short. As the lyrics of a popular song by the 1980’s pop group, Kansas goes: “All we are is dust in the wind.” No wonder so many people are walking around with a negative self-image. All I am is “dust in the wind”? And that was a top 10 song! Look at what we have been saying, singing and integrating into our cultural view of ourselves: we are worthless!

We have to begin relearning our basic worth and value. By showing care and concern for a spouse, child, neighbor or stranger, I can overcome my personal isolation, distance and loneliness. I can activate feelings of a positive self-image by developing my giving qualities and by being there for someone. That is, I need to rediscover my royal self-my giving self.

If I am feeling down, I have the power to take myself out of my negative mindset by reminding myself of my essential royal nature. There is a regal core lying dormant within my being and all I need do is to activate it by doing one act of giving or kindness—for that is the essence of royalty.

No one else can really pull me out of a state of depression, except me. Energized with this new self-knowledge of my regal essence, I now feel empowered to take control of my own life. I need not blame others for my loneliness and sense of alienation. I cannot blame others for my predicament and I cannot abdicate my responsibility for my own state of mind. I am actually in control of my own mood and can talk myself out of my feelings of alienation and isolation by “digging deep” into my spiritual center and getting in touch with my royal, giving and spiritual core.

 It is a matter of free choice. I can choose to activate feelings of depression or I can choose to activate feelings of worth and value. When I choose to think positively and act upon this realization, I can concretize this feeling of empowerment. I can get myself out of the house and visit someone who is less fortunate than me, deliver a meal to an elderly person or volunteer at the local hospital. I  can make a phone call to a relative who is shut in or ill. Then I will be actualizing my regal giving nature and can look at myself with self-respect and begin to feel positive about my “self.”