Diolch. [Interruption.] Yes, follow that, yes. Among her predecessors, Elizabeth II cannot claim to have spent the longest duration of time in Wales—the two Henrys and single Edward, actually born here, can battle it out for that particular crown—but she is, without a doubt, the British monarch who will have visited Wales most often, and the First Minister has referred to some of those occasions. Even at the start, our nation loomed large in the life of this unintended Queen. During the war, historians inform us, plans were drawn up to quell Welsh nationalism by affiliating Elizabeth more closely with Wales. Appointing her constable of Caernarfon castle was rejected as geographically impractical, making her a patron of the Urdd was considered too radical an option, so she had to settle instead for being inducted into the Gorsedd, aged 20, by the then archdruid, Crwys.

Elizabeth's first official visit to Wales was on 28 March 1944. This happened to be the day on which MPs in Westminster voted to pay women teachers the same as men, an important milestone in the movement towards equality that has been one of the many strands woven into the tapestry of Elizabeth II's long life and reign. Monarch-to-be she may have been, but that very equality was denied her at the outset; in the days preceding a visit to Wales, Welsh local authorities, in what used to be known as the Welsh Parliamentary Party, petitioned for her to be declared Princess of Wales. She was refused that right, because at that time a woman could only be heir presumptive, not heir apparent.

In response to being given the freedom of the city of Cardiff, plain Princess Elizabeth declared she had a very personal connection with Wales nonetheless. She may well have had in mind Y Bwthyn Bach—this was the fully functional model house that was presented to her by the people of Wales in 1932, on her sixth birthday. Located in Windsor Great Park, it included a kitchen with a stove and a fridge, a living room known as Y Siambr Fach, with electric lighting and a working telephone, two bedrooms and a bathroom that came with hot and cold running water and even a heated towel rail. In the circumstances of the time back home in Wales, this scaled-down cottage would have seemed every bit as palatial as Windsor itself.

Years later, as newly crowned Queen Elizabeth, she repaid our collective generosity by formally opening the national library in Aberystwyth, where 44 years earlier, her grandfather, King George V, had laid the foundation stone; nation building in Wales has always been a slow and painstaking affair. She described the library as having preserved

'the distinct character of a small but individual member of my family of nations', a family that under her stewardship was rapidly transforming itself from an empire to a Commonwealth of independent nations—a status we hope, in our party, Wales will also one day enjoy.

Perhaps the most significant and long-lasting connection between Wales and the Queen grew out of her empathy, as has already been referenced, following the Aberfan disaster. It was a rare occasion when she was reported as shedding a tear in public. One mother told a television reporter:

'I remember the Queen walking through the mud. It felt like she was with us from the beginning.'

Queen Elizabeth never forgot Aberfan. She visited in 1973 to open the new community centre, and again in 1997 to mark the thirtieth anniversary of the tragedy.

Llywydd, we in the Senedd have a special reason to acknowledge the role of the Queen in the life of Wales. Her inaugural opening of our Parliament following the first elections in 1999 served to underline, through her presence, the significance of that new beginning in our national democratic journey—against the wishes, it seems, of the then Prime Minister. Now, on the threshold of emerging as a fully self-governing nation, Wales has changed beyond recognition when compared with our circumstances in 1952—a country without a capital, let alone a Parliament. Inscribed within this Jubilee, therefore, is also our own journey from Siambr fach to Siambr fwy, for our history is also, in part at least, her story too.