Golden Locks

Many times before
I have seen the small silver scissors
Inching towards me.
Many times before
I have received a quick trim.
Unlike many times,
My sisters didn’t sit beside me to share the experience.
Unlike many times
People waited there to collect my hair that would fall,
Past my shoulders,
Onto the floor,
And into their hands.

Like a deer in headlights,
I sat transfixed: scared, anxious and speechless.
The long beautiful strands lied still on the back of the chair.
A girl with a strange up-do
Slowly approached me in my chair.
While she draped a black apron on me,
She grabbed my hair,
Slowly tying it back.
I thought it would never end.
I closed my eyes so I couldn’t see the pain.

Knowing that when I would open them,
Things wouldn’t be the same.
As I took a deep breath,
I held it all in.
Like a balloon about to pop,
A relieved a big sigh.
I heard a quiet voice,
It’s over.
It’s gone.
I reluctantly opened my eyes,
First the left,
Then the right.
I took a quick glance,
Before I could notice all the good.

Although my hair now reached the bottom of my ears,
I now knew it could be handed to someone in need.
I would give something,
To someone,
Who needed it.
Who when they get it, a smile may be drawn upon their face,
Through the hard times they’ve had
And the triumphs they overcame,
I would give a smile to that sad face.

They put the long strands into a bag,
Bold letters on the outside that read “To Locks for Love”.
“Where exactly is my hair going to?” I pondered out loud.
The tall exquisite lady contemplated a long answer.
I was able to sum up her words into a life lesson:
“There are people in need, that others can help, because everyone can make a difference.”

A tear rolled down my face
Not a sad one,
But a happy one,
One that smiled for the audience in front of it,
An audience of people who have had a rocky path in life.





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