B is for Braids

One of my first memories in life is sitting in the window seat next to my mother's vanity, watching her twist and weave her waist-length auburn hair into two long braids. She wrapped them around the back of her head, using bobby pins to hold them in place. Many women of the time wore their hair in similar fashion, at least within the Mennonite circles where I was raised.

Years later Mom decided to cut her hair short, and she came home from the hairdresser that day with two beautiful detached braids, rubber-banded at each end. For years she kept those braids tucked away in the drawer of her armoire. You never know, she once mused. Some day when I'm old I might need a hair piece. I remember opening the drawer every now and then to see if they were still there, and to feel their silky smoothness as my fingers bumped up and down the length of each chunky braid.

In elementary and middle school, the Old Order Mennonite girls all wore their hair with two braids. As children they did not wear their braids up and wrapped. The two thick ropes of hair would bounce along behind them during recess, and rest forward across their shoulders in reading group. I marveled at how quickly my friends could re-braid their hair, even without a mirror, when they came in from a particularly rough game of tag or a wild rumpus on the monkey bars. My hair was never long enough to braid, but I learned to braid my daughter's hair when she was still young enough to be excited about that.

Sadly, I do not know whatever became of my mother's two severed braids. Perhaps they were lost in one of the moves. Or maybe she ended up donating them to Locks of Love. I do know that her morning routine was forever simplified without the need to braid and wrap. And she never again wore a religious covering once her braids were gone.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that losing those braids signified a gain of freedom and independence for Mom, in an era and in a community that was very stifling for many women. She is old now, and thankfully she has never needed that hair piece.

Life Lesson: Take chances on new things. (Be a risk taker!)