It occurred to me that this young mother didn’t want just anyone to cut her two year old’s hair…she wanted ME! WHAT??? Didn’t she know that I had never cut anyone’s hair, including my own three OS? Didn’t she know I farmed out that service to qualified hands? Where’s a Sports Clips or a Great Clips when you need one?
The mom returned, scissors in hand and I ridiculously asked her what kind of haircut she wanted her daughter to have. This is funny because it wasn’t like I had a variety of coifs from which to choose. That’s when she blew my mind and informed me that the child in front of me with a long, thick ponytail wasn’t a girl ~ this little person was a boy! Huh? And his name was Richard, not Ricardo. Dumbfounded I stood by a dusty boulder in this forsaken village. The pressure was on. My heart pounded faster.
I prayed to Jesus and put the scissors in my hand and began the job. Richard was the best client a stylist as new and inexperienced as I could ever want. So still, so patient, if he only knew who was about to give him his first haircut! At first I just simply cut the long ponytail but as I looked at the precious face before me, something came over me. I felt empowered to do more. The scissors began trimming around Richard’s ears, giving him bangs, the whole works. There was some styling going on! Richard’s mom gathered some of his locks into a plastic bag I as many American moms have done in the past. I don’t believe I cut Richard’s hair. I believe God did.
Then she asked me my name and told me that the first person who cuts a baby’s hair became that child’s godmother. Oh my goodness.
I stood there, astonished and handed the young mama the bottle of shampoo. At long last, the Bumble and Bumble had found its rightful owner. She gave a heartfelt thank you and scooped up Richard. Just before it was time to board the bus and say farewell, this Peruvian mama returned and paraded Richard in front of me. She must have taken him into her simple abode and used the shampoo immediately. There in front of me stood Richard, his hair was freshly washed, wearing a collared shirt looking cute as can be. This child looked like a little boy!
I wonder what my OS is learning and where he is in Guatemala. What are his stories? I can’t wait to know! I’ve learned this and I’m sure he is as well. The Lord can use our simple gifts, our imperfect efforts (which I have in abundance.) This is the power of transformation.
I have another story about shampoo, this time in El Salvador. Do you want to hear it? Tell me your story about transformation, I’d love to hear it!