French Braids
It's the sweetest thing to wrap your fingers in your daughters hair as you weave a pattern of blond.
I adored french braiding the girls' hair, such soft and thick layers of sandy and sunshine blond. Watching their faces light up with pride as their hair was transformed from a sleepy and tousled mess to a beautiful crown,
I couldn't help but love it!
The youngest of the two girls had a pretty large scab on her scalp when she arrived at my home, about the size of a quarter. Having been vaguely told the cause of the owie, in disgust I put it out of my mind and thanked God she was healing from her wound. Months past and her scab fell away and her hair was growing back quite nicely, soon it would be hard to even notice the mark left by such an ugly scene.
Isn't it amazing how sometimes we make stories up in our minds of how things are, but in reality it's so much worse!
This ugly scene starts with a fire poker and ends with a scab on a little girls scalp. But while french braiding her sunshine blond hair one morning my dad walks up and asks, "when did she get that burn?"
I look over at him and make the motions with my lips to silence him. "sh!" All at once what he said sunk in, it sunk in deep. With my lips still in a puckered "sh" position, and with a glazed expression
I start to focus on what is clearly a burn mark.
A BURN MARK!!!
Where there had been a deep, black, nasty, thick scab her skin had grown white and pure again, but scarred just like a burn... melted. Her hair became loose in my hands and I felt like nothing in me could move as I imagined this sweet and precious child screaming in pain from a scolding hot fire poker.
It's the sweetest thing to wrap your fingers in your daughters hair as you weave a pattern of blond.
I adored french braiding the girls' hair, such soft and thick layers of sandy and sunshine blond. Watching their faces light up with pride as their hair was transformed from a sleepy and tousled mess to a beautiful crown,
I couldn't help but love it!
The youngest of the two girls had a pretty large scab on her scalp when she arrived at my home, about the size of a quarter. Having been vaguely told the cause of the owie, in disgust I put it out of my mind and thanked God she was healing from her wound. Months past and her scab fell away and her hair was growing back quite nicely, soon it would be hard to even notice the mark left by such an ugly scene.
Isn't it amazing how sometimes we make stories up in our minds of how things are, but in reality it's so much worse!
This ugly scene starts with a fire poker and ends with a scab on a little girls scalp. But while french braiding her sunshine blond hair one morning my dad walks up and asks, "when did she get that burn?"
I look over at him and make the motions with my lips to silence him. "sh!" All at once what he said sunk in, it sunk in deep. With my lips still in a puckered "sh" position, and with a glazed expression
I start to focus on what is clearly a burn mark.
A BURN MARK!!!
Where there had been a deep, black, nasty, thick scab her skin had grown white and pure again, but scarred just like a burn... melted. Her hair became loose in my hands and I felt like nothing in me could move as I imagined this sweet and precious child screaming in pain from a scolding hot fire poker.
Sometimes I wonder if the stories should be shared, should they be remembered? Who would want to remember such horror. To fill our minds with the sinful behavior of another, I would have to say isn't right. Hiding it isn't right either and I simply want to open all of our eyes to the pain so many people face each day.
I'm speechless at this moment by the memory of the pain she must have experienced.
My prayer
...
Lord Protect her mind and heart as she grows into a lovely young lady.
Let her forget the pain of that day and replace her past with a bright future.
I'm speechless at this moment by the memory of the pain she must have experienced.
My prayer
...
Lord Protect her mind and heart as she grows into a lovely young lady.
Let her forget the pain of that day and replace her past with a bright future.
2 comments:
heartwrenching. You write beautifully Nicole. <3
i cried. i cannot imagine. you express things so beautifully, nicole!
Post a Comment