A Long Ago Lesson

I was looking for a dress for an upcoming summer wedding.
I tried a few on.
I settled on one in particular.
It is pale pink and is exactly what I was hoping to find.

I saw her hanging clothes on the racks.
I saw her fixing clothes that other people had disheveled a bit.
She is always working hard every time I see her.
I said, Hi, to her.

Hi, hon, she answered, which seems to be the way she addresses people.
We talked for a bit.
I asked her about another salesgirl I had not seen in a while.
This young woman is so pleasant; it is delightful to see her when I am in the store.

I looked at her on this day and noticed her hair.
Perhaps it was the color she was wearing.
Perhaps it was the way she had it styled.
You have the most gorgeous color hair, I told her in no uncertain terms.

Oh, thank you, hon, she answered with a smile.
Do you know what someone asked me yesterday? She began.
A woman came up to me and tapped me on the shoulder, she said.
The woman wanted to know the number of the color on the box! She exclaimed.

I guess I looked confused.
She wanted to know the shade of hair coloring I used! She explained.
You don’t say that to a red head, she went on.
Imagine her thinking I dyed my hair this color!

I could imagine someone wanting that hair color.
It is absolutely stunning.
She could not imagine anyone actually wanting red hair.
That is why the question perplexed her.

It really is beautiful, I told her.
I like your color, she told me.
I like that salt and pepper look, she admitted.
I hope my hair is that color when I turn gray, she said.

My grandmother’s hair is all white; it looks so pretty, she continued.
I will probably have her hair color, she said.
That would be lovely, I said to her.
Just wear lipstick, I added from experience.

I hoped that she felt better about her hair when I left her.
People do ask the strangest questions, even when they do not even know the person.
I would never have asked the young woman about her hair color box.
However, my not asking her that question would not have been for noble reasons.

I never liked red hair when I was young.
I am embarrassed to say that because I love red hair now.
The few people I knew with red hair had red eyelashes and eyebrows as well.
I had never seen anything like that before.

Of course, my mother never let me get away with my prejudice against red hair.
It was ridiculous.
It was based on feelings not fact.
It made no sense whatsoever.

Thankfully, it was short lived.
It was an incident at church that was the tipping point.
The little red headed girl from my class said hello to me.
I never answered her.

That little girl just said hello to you, my mother said in a no nonsense voice.
I did not answer my mother or look at her.
She took my chin in her hands and turned my face towards her.
There was no getting away from her gaze.

Why didn’t you say hello to that little girl? She asked me, expecting an answer.
Because she has red hair, I admitted.
I knew that my mother was terribly disappointed by the look on her face.
You chose not to speak to someone because of their hair color? She asked.

You will go up to that little girl and you will apologize to her, my mother said.
I really did not want to because I knew that I was wrong.
My mother walked right beside me as we approached the little girl.
She stood back as she gently pushed me forward.

I’m sorry I didn’t say hello to you, I said looking at the ground.
That’s OK, the little girl said, see you in school tomorrow.
I noticed her bright blue eyes.
They were so kind and she was so nice to me when I was not nice to her.

She never knew the reason behind my refusal to say hello to her.
My mother said that would hurt her feelings.
My mother talked to me about prejudice.
Wars are started over things just like that, she wisely said.

But the LORD said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.”  (1 Samuel 16:7)

I had no basis whatsoever for my dislike of red hair when I was young.
I made a judgment.
I can still hear my mother’s voice.
Wars are started over things just like that.

Over red hair? I naively asked her.
Over skin color, over places people live, over the littlest thing…her voice trailed off.
You talked to your friend and she was very nice, my mother reminded me.
She accepted your apology and looks forward to seeing you at school on Monday.

She was nicer than me, I said in my little girl way.
Yes, she was, my mother agreed.
My mother was not one to mince words.
I am so glad.

Not wanting to say hello to someone because of their red hair.
Not wanting to________ because of_______.
Prejudice is an ugly thing.
Thanks,  for not letting me get away with it, Mom.

 

One response to “A Long Ago Lesson”

1. Your mom sounds like an amazing lady!

   Reply