Lily always looked forward to those weekend trips to the ranch. The property was owned by a gentleman named Edwin Boyd, who worked for Lily's father. It was out in the country, so Lily, her younger sister, and their friends would make the journey on horseback. Many happy days on the Boyd Ranch would be remembered by Lily forever after. But one moment in particular—a moment which impressed nobody else—stayed with Lily. And yet, because of the way she saw it… well, why don't I just tell you the rest of the story?
Lily and her sister and friends were returning home after one of those visits. They were riding away when one of the ranch girls called out to one of the young men on horseback, a beau named Jim. The girl was standing at the ranch gate, waving. Everybody looked back at her. Jim, appearing a little flushed and self-conscious, said to the others, "Wait for me," and he galloped off toward the anxious girl.
Now, Lily's sister, a little annoyed by the delay, rode on ahead. But Lily and the others stayed behind to watch as handsome Jim hurried down the path to the ranch gate and the side of the adoring girl, her cheeks stained with tears because he was departing. Nobody recalled their parting words, whatever they were, for shortly Jim had returned to his comrades and all of them were galloping off toward home.
But it was the poignancy of what Lily had seen, and what she imagined had been said, that was enough to inspire a gentle melody. It was soon singing softly in her head, and the next day, Lily, still haunted by that wistful tune, wrote lyrics to go with it. And thus, with the tenderness of a goodbye—a goodbye you and I never witnessed—it haunts us more than a century later: Lily's love song.
The house in which Lily lived stands yesterday very much as it was then. Her bedroom is furnished as she knew it; her full-length portrait still hangs in the hall. Her grand piano is there as well, a silent reminder of Lily's musical gift and of the one song the world came to love, and with which her people would so strongly identify.
For you see, Lily, vintage 1878, was more than a woman on a country holiday. She was a real, live princess, and one day she would be her country's queen—the very last ruling monarch over a land that became our 50th state: Hawaii.
For when Lily, the princess who became Queen Liliʻuokalani, saw that young Hawaiian girl at the ranch gate place a wreath of flowers around her friend's neck, as the princess witnessed that tender parting, she could not then have imagined how much it would mean to the Hawaiian people, and indeed to the rest of us, to hear the sweet musical refrain and the words: Aloha ʻOe, farewell to thee, until we meet again for the rest of the story.
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