I loved being a Brownie and is wasn't just the uniform, says Christa Ackroyd

Not so keen on guides I have to say. I very quickly decided it was not going to be cool enough for me, which of course it absolutely would have been had I stuck it out instead of joining the local youth club. But then blue was never my colour of choice.

No it was Brownies I loved. They were also the recipients of my first public speaking performance, heaven help them. (Well apart from Mrs Southwell at Swain House Junior and Infants who let me read to class on a Friday afternoon just to ensure my attention didn’t wander to more interesting places, as it frequently did).

But back to the Brownies and, more importantly, the Brownie Promise which had to be uttered upon enrolment once you decided if it was for you and your mother had bought the uniform and which I had practised and practised in front of the mirror in the bathroom until quite frankly she was sick of hearing it. My father on the other hand seemed to take it equally as seriously as I did, but then he was a serious sort of a chap, though I suspect he was desperately trying to stifle a chuckle when he advised me “Deep breath. Don’t rush. And annunciate Christa. Annunciate.” Very big on annunciation was my dad.

Our pack, and no I can’t remember our number, met every Tuesday night in a sort of wooden church hall/community building near to where we lived at Wrose in Bradford. I remember it was always freezing cold in winter, not so much when we had “Run around girls.. you’ll soon warm up” as instructed by Brown Owl. Only this night though I was boiling hot as I was called upon to deliver my lines under a photograph of The Queen.

“I promise to do my best, to do my duty to God and the Queen. And to keep the Brownie law.” And yes I know there were other versions before and since but that’s the one I remember; the hand washed coloured photo of the Monarch in a pale cream dress with sash and crown, the one taken for the National Portrait Gallery in, I think I’m right, 1952. I can still close my eyes and see that photograph, just as I can still remember making that Brownie promise. Because it was a very important moment in my little life indeed. I think I did alright though I am sure I could have been better, anyway The Queen didn’t seem too concerned looking down on the seven year old me.

Over the years I saw that photograph many times, that and newer updated versions of the Queen overseeing her subjects. I am sure it hung in the famous Idle Working Men’s Club down the road from me, where I think I went to a few children’s birthday parties. I know it was positioned along the corridor at school towards the headmistress’s office. And I am certain it was in a prominent place at the police station where my dad was stationed. It was definitely at the town hall and I remember it in the working men’s clubs when I went to interview committee members after I started out as a journalist. It was also in the Conservative Clubs, the Liberal Clubs, even the miners welfare clubs where I sought quotes in times of political happenings and I swear I saw it at various courthouses up and down the land, even the Old Bailey where I witnessed Peter Sutcliffe being jailed for life. It certainly hung in every mess room, in every Royal British Legion building and many other places of public service.

That portrait of The Queen was interwoven through my years. I suspect as newer buildings were commissioned its uptake waned until of course she died and we were reminded of the integral part she had played in our lives when shops, restaurants and even private houses displayed that same portrait once more. It was an image that followed me all through my life. I never knew another monarch, until now of course.

Almost exactly a month from today we will celebrate, or most of us will I am sure, the coronation of King Charles III after which there will be a new portrait hung the length and breadth of the land. Or at least that’s the plan. I know times are tough and on the face of it £8million pounds seems an awful lot of money to spend on an official framed photograph of The King on offer to all public organisations but I hope the uptake reflects a sense of pride which I still have for being a country with a monarch.

There have been those who have mocked the decision to offer the photograph in the same way the one of The Queen was offered to the public, saying it is irrelevant. I have even heard some say what’s wrong with a photo copied version or at least a printout in this digital age?

I tell you what’s wrong. To see the same portrait of our King wherever we may travel offers us the same sort of continuity as The Queen brought us for so many years. It is more than just a picture of a man.

It is a symbol of what makes our country different in good times and in bad. Presidents and Prime Ministers come and go with alarming regularity, the Monarchy continues. It is our USP (unique selling point) and if some feel it is antiquated so be it. I do not.

I am looking forward to the Coronation, to both watching and organising our own celebrations. I want the day to not be about just his family but about ours too. I want to be there at the street parties with my grandchildren and be able to point at a picture on the wall and say that is our King. And to be proud of what we can achieve together.

Prince Charles in my book has always been a man who has tried his best to be relevant to all of us and now as King I am totally convinced he will continue to do so and make us proud of our heritage.

And if it takes a photo on the wall to remind us of that I hope the uptake of this new portrait is huge.

I will never forget taking my Brownie vows under that photo of The Queen. It was an important moment in my life. I respectfully suggest the Coronation of our King will be another. And one which if we embrace it’s moment in history, symbolises continuity in an ever changing world. And will live with us forever.