Wild Hair

I remember the wild hair of my youth! It was the expression of my youthful impatience to get going! My mom would try to wrangle my hair into adorable ponytails, and I would let her because she had a firm grip on my head, but those ponytails didn't last the day. I would come home, after a bumpy nap on the bus, and my hair would be a disheveled mess.

I think I was in the sixth grade before I cared to keep beautiful hair. Wild hair on little girls seems to be a thing. I remember the little girl who I used to babysit, and she had glorious long, blond, hair. Her grandmother would get so upset that she didn't keep it well-groomed like a little lady should have done. It didn't bother me, though. I knew it was just a phase. She definitely grew into keeping it maintained and now has flowing hair that's free from tangles and reaches down her back.

My daughter, too, has had wild hair. Currently she is about to go into her seventh-grade year, and she has started to wash it well, and become delighted when it's bouncy. Her goal is for it to grow as long as possible.

Perhaps the beauty comes from allowing the hair to have stayed wild? The mommas try to wrangle the wild locks, but the strands of hair always find a way to express their own movement. It's not until the girl is ready to let the calmness in that the beauty of the hair can shine through. Perhaps beauty and calm come naturally after the wild?