Yesterday I received a gift – a sequin. Yes, just one. It shone and sparkled beautifully as it caught the light.

You think that one sequin is not much of a gift? Oh, I disagree.

It was given with all the love of a four-year-old, her eyes shining with the pleasure of sharing her treasure. She'd found it in the playground of her pre-school, amidst the grass and discarded toys of her busy happy playmates as they moved urgently from one play activity to the next.

Yesterday was Grandparents' Day. Or so I had been told. I was the only grandparent there.

Apparently they sent a message to parents, saying that they were changing the date to next week, but for one reason or another, my daughter-in-law did not receive it. It probably went to my son. Enough said.

So I drove for half an hour to see little Emma, who was very excited in anticipation of my visit.

Within a few minutes of my arrival, we were busily drawing pictures of rainbows – and I was very soon surrounded by four-year-olds, all wanting me to help them get started on similar pictures.  My art work is very little more advanced than theirs, yet I had been promoted to "artist" in residence.

I duly admired how they ate all their morning snack of fruit and yoghurt. The teacher said that normally some of them were messy eaters. I was quietly pleased that they were trying to impress me. They all called me "Nanny" – and I felt like a queen.

Did it matter that I was the only grandparent? No, not at all.

It was even more special for Emma, as there was no crowd of other grandparents to distract the children. I was HERS, and, because I was treated with deference and importance, she caught a bit of my celebrity.

I am sure that many of them told their parents that the best thing of the day was that Emma's Nanny came to pre-school – and Emma's Nanny helped them with their colouring.

For me, the best thing of the day was that I received a sequin. It will go in the "special" dish in the cabinet with all Nanny's other "special" things – bone china tea-set, crystal vases and dishes, and souvenirs from many travels.

Perhaps that dish is the most important.

It holds gumnuts found on one of our walks, a beautiful white feather from another walk, a painted rock, a token from a game, a special stone, a flower-shaped sparkly key-ring, made by one of the grandchildren from modelling clay … each has a special memory.

And now a sequin, which will remind me of the day when I was the only grandmother at pre-school.