A while back I decided it was time for a change so I decided to get a haircut . I wanted to add layers and cut it shorter than ever before. But I missed my long hair, so the road to growing it back had begun. Last week I headed to a salon to get just the dead ends trimmed. I have never been one to really put a lot of time or money into my hair. Therefore, I always go to the place with the shortest wait and to the stylist who is next.

It was the day before Thanksgiving, so I was surprised to see only one customer waiting when I arrived. The lady cutting hair took my name, and I sat down waiting with the other customer. We waited and waited. A male stylist came from the back and nervously walked around in circles, then disappeared. We waited and waited. The lady called his name with a “come on people are waiting” voice. He returned looking anxious.

“Are you ok?” She asked him.

His reply was a quick “No, I’m not.”

I am not big into my hair, but I was getting worried. He looked like he was having a really bad day. Don’t call my name first. Don’t call my name first….

“Donna”. Well alrighty then. After I plopped into the chair, the young man made casual conversation as he began combing out my hair. During this time I explained that I just needed it trimmed up. Not long into the cutting, I saw “the looks”.

A Confused Look

Now being a teacher, you learn to read faces. I immediately know by a child’s face when they are thinking, I’m not sure I’m doing this right, I need help, or is this how you do it?

He continued to make small talk and then began singing to the music in the background. I’m right there with ya, buddy. Singing makes me feel better too. Occassionally, he would lift up portions of my hair, looking at them as if they were alien. Finally after cutting one entire side of my head, he gave in.

“Um, Sherry, I’m gonna need some help.”

So Sherry comes over and instructs him how to layer the other side Hello! You already did one side!  He thanks her, apologizes to me, and continues on. Then he comes to my bangs.

“Um, Sherry, I’m gonna need you again.” So, Sherry once again comes over and instructs him. He apologizes once again.

When he finished cutting and drying my hair he asked, “How do you style your hair? Round brush? Flat iron? Gel?”

I replied, “Curling iron.” Oh, the look on his face! But, I continued with, “but you don’t have to style it, I’m just going home.”

He let out a huge sigh saying, “Oh good. When you said curling iron, my heart fluttered. I’m not too good with those, and I usually burn myself.”

The Resulting Haircut

Now, years ago I might have been disturbed at this event and especially since getting my “ends trimmed” resulted in my hair being shorter than it ever was! But I sat in that chair thinking, I once was a brand new teacher, thrown into a classroom alone with twenty kindergarteners. No amount of college ever prepared me for the REAL thing.

Was I pleased with my haircut?  Not really, but hair grows back. (“Que Sera, Sera”) So, I laughed to myself hoping the smile and the tip I gave him helped encourage him along.

Your words have the power to hurt or heal; be an encourager.