08/10/05
TwinkleGram From Charlene - A GOOD PRUNING
Dear TwinkleGrammers,
A funny thing happened a few weeks ago on my way to Sam's Club where I was going to meet a friend (what an exciting life, huh?): I arrived in the parking lot about forty-five minutes early; I was going to get a cola and read (always have a book or twenty in my car) in Sam's snack bar while I waited.
However, when I was getting out of the car I spied a discount haircut place in a strip mall just across the lot. And it was Very Hot outside. And I hate summer. And my hair was making me nuts. And a sign in the window read "Walk-ins Welcome." And, "Oh, look! I have FEET." And so I walked in and sure enough, someone could take me in a fews minutes and it shouldn't take that long to "trim me up" and I'd still make my shopping meeting. SIGN ME UP!
So, there I am in the chair. I get draped (no wash; in a hurry, you know) and spirtzed and asked what I want done. I say, "I don't care. Just do something." I am brave this way, especially since I'm the one who wrote an entire chapter called "Haircut Wars" in my first book on parenting. (Don't Miss Your Kids! They'll be Gone Before You Know It!) In the Haircut Wars chapter I shared all kinds of terrible haircut stories (although as they applied to kids, not my own head) using the line "Hair Always Grows Back" as a metaphor for the Larger Message which is Don't sweat the small stuff. This too shall pass. Yes, Hair grows back. ( Of course my oldest son--who was 25 at the time and is now 40--lost *all* the hair on top of his head due to family genes, but in MOST cases, the metaphor works ;>))
So, the stylists whips my hair this way and that, parts it here and there, makes a suggestion or two, queries which one I like best and again I say, "Whatever. Just do something. You're the professional." And so the cutting begins. And we enter into the chatting-while-getting-a-haircut rally which is always my FAVORITE part of the haircut experience.
I learn she is JUST (as in that very day) back from the vacation trail. She'd gone to visit her grandmother who was celebrating her 100th birthday! Grandma still lives alone, hangs her clothes out on the line and is a spitfire. OH! I adore stories about oldster women who have gone--and are still going--before me, blazing the trails of womanhood with grit and grace! So inspiring! I asked more questions about grannie; she shared a few more grannie stories. She cut. We talked about our immediate families (her boys, my new granddaughter) and laughed and she cut and cut and cut and talked and talked and she cut and THEN she stopped for a moment (not talking, but cutting) to look for her new $149 RAZOR that she guaranteed me was worth every penny, and just like that, the spendiferous razor began to FLUTTER around my head. (The thing is, I thought I'd stepped into Partonville--my fictional town from the Dearest Dorothy series--since there is a scene in Dearest Dorothy, Who Would Have Ever Thought?! which I wrote WAAAAAY before this incident which is *remarkably* like My Real Life story I'm herewith telling you!)
Here's what I learned about a $149 razor: it never tugs! Worth every cent. She said--as I was still facing away from the mirror--that this marvelous razor did the absolute BEST job of "wispy," which I decided I ADORE--even though I hadn't seen it on myself yet. But after all, it was hot. And I hate summer. And my hair was making me nuts so a few (key word) wispies seemed right in order.
She asked me if I'd like a little "height on top," and I said, "whatever," and so she backcombed, moused (honestly, are moused and moused spelled the same way? If so, I assure you I did NOT have a dead mouse smeared on my head) and sprayed. And then she spun me around to face myself in the mirror.
Here's what I heard in my head when I got a gander at myself (as *my* grannie used to say). "Remember: Hair always grows back." I heard it in my head again when the person I was meeting saw me and said, "Oh, you got your hair cut."
And that was ALL she said about it. Of course I went on to say plenty more regarding the scalping.
It wasn't the first time I'd have to endure Horrible Head; I felt pretty sure it wouldn't be the last. I resigned myself to gutting it out and avoiding mirrors. *I immediately accepted that I was a horrendous mess* but that one day I would eventually come out the other side. And after all, I had six weeks of growing time before my book tour was to begin. THANK YOU, JESUS!
But then another funny thing happened the next day after I washed my hair and without looking in the mirror gave it a few scrunches. (In other words, I grabbed hold--well, I grabbed hold of the miniscule amount that was there for the taking--with my hands then squeezed those few remaining hairs with my fingers in an attempt to fluff them a tad.) Still without looking, I went off into my day to meet another friend. (Friends: grace upon grace.) When she first saw me I opened my mouth to tell her I already KNEW I was ugly and she said, "You got your hair cut."
And that was all *she* said about it since I immediately followed her comment with "and that's all *I* have to say about it, too." Ugly is as ugly does.
However (and here is where the worm begins to turn), about five minutes later she said (and she is a friend who tells me the Truth), "You know, your haircut is actually *darling* like that! I just needed a chance to get used to the change."
Right.
But after I came home I finally dared a look in the mirror. And she was RIGHT! I had DARLING wisps! My hair was FLUFFY with wisps, and PERKY and ... OH! I'd wasted twenty-four hours feeling ugly about myself, even beating others to the "I'm Ugly" line. For no reason, all because I gave myself no chance to get used to something.
Whether it HAD been a terrible cut or not, the three-fold moral of this story (but I'm sure you can find more) is: 1) Don't judge your own book by your own cover; 2) patience is a virtue, even when you don't believe that is true; and 3) Inspiring stories are everywhere. I will never forget (and have already repeated a few times) the goodness, spunk and character in a grandmother I have never met whose granddaughter (who I also don't *really* know aside from her new $149 razor, her genuine enthusiasm for life and her extraordinary wisping talent), adores her.
And remember, hair grows (and grows and grows, and sometimes where you don't want it to).
Peace and grins until we chat again, Charlene PS Watch your inbox for a Special Edition TwinkleGram which will cover my BOOK TOUR information for Dearest Dorothy, Who Would Have Ever Thought?! which releases August 30th! This tour I'll be traveling from AZ to VA and parts in between. All prayers for my stamina are appreciated.
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John 15:2 Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more fruit. (And sometimes God might just have someone use a razor to do it!)
Charlene Ann Baumbich
Wispy Woman
Pruned Vine
Child of God, Planet Earth
