My Hair

One of my favorite scenes in Little Women follows the devastating telegram informing the March family that their father is ill. Marmie is desperately needing the funds for the trip to visit her husband in the hospital in Washington and has resorted to borrowing money from the crotchety Aunt March. However, Jo schemes a different plan... she sells her long, beautify hair. That evening in bed Jo gives a stifled sob, and Meg asks, "Jo, dear, what is it? Are you crying about father?" Jo replies, "No, not now." "What then?" "My --my hair!" burst our poor Jo, trying vainly to smother her emotion in the pillow. It makes me teary and chuckle simultaneously! And yesterday, I lived it.

So, my brush broke last week. Apparently it was time for a hair cut. I've been growing it out for seven years to donate, but I hadn't anticipated chopping it off so soon until my sister expressed her desire to cut hers. We scheduled an appointment (with our cousin Meredith... practically a pro!), and we both left the salon with ziplocks of our hair to donate for wigs for girls with cancer.

A kink in the hair donation plan occurred to me as I was heading home... where was my bag of hair? Somewhere between the salon and my aunt's house lies a ziplock of 8 inches of curly red hair. Needless to say, my drive home ended up being a sob story of a girl who cut off all of her hair. For, the decision to chop my hair off was solely for the purpose of donating and definitely not because I wanted short hair. Making a sacrifice for a woman battling cancer is one thing... but sacrificing for no reason- there is no pleasure in that.

There is still some hope that the baggy of my hair will be found, but until then, I'm...(sigh)... adjusting.

Before

After