p style=”text-align:justify;”>How much do you trust those you love?
There probably as many answers to this questions as there are people on this planet. I’m not even going to attempt to define love in this case, because that is a matter for philosophers. Suffice it to say that in my book, love is unconditional, based on mutual respect, understanding and acceptance. English, unfortunately is very limited in terms of linguistics in defining love, unlike German and Spanish, both languages distinguishing between a deep affection and a romantic love. Enough said. The topic of the day is trust, not love – simply because I have a story to tell and the person involved is someone I love with all my heart and soul and trust completely.
When I was a little girl living in Kenya, my dad used to cut my hair. Mommy told me stories of how he and his buddies at the factory would cut each other’s hair to save on costs. For men in the 60s this basically meant taking an electric shaver and buzzing around the head; the crew cut they called it. The crew cut is a military term and implies that it is a cut that fellow crew member did on your hair. Well, Daddy confidently argued that a little girl’s hair couldn’t be that difficult for a mechanical engineer to figure out. My mom stood by and said “cut straight at the back and then the bangs.” No big deal, right? Well, three-year olds can be squirmy, so the scissors slipped one time and he nicked my earlobe. Somehow, each time he cut my hair, my bangs seemed to expand sideways… to the point that I had bangs that ended up going from ear to ear!
When we moved to Mexico, Mommy decided to fire Daddy from the hairdressing job (she tried it herself once but we were both unhappy with the experience and the result), and decided that I would go to the salon instead. Whew! Since then, I have never trusted a family member to cut my hair – until this past Easter, 45 years later. I just needed a quick trim at the back to even out all the odd layers of my short hair. The rest could be solved with a round brush and hair dryer. I figured, my daughter is an artist, can create brilliant pieces with her hands, so why not trust her with scissors and my hair for 10 minutes rather than spend EUR 40 at a salon.
I live on the edge and take a lot of risks in my life. I have also taken a lot of risks with my daughter, so one more wasn’t going to change things. I hoped. Lo and behold, I loved the result, and it worked like a charm. So this time around when she returned to Berlin I decided to have a go at it again. We both forgot, and I only remembered 45 minutes before leaving for the bus station! So in-between packing, showering, and cleaning up she trimmed my hair, grumbling that kitchen scissors were not the ideal instrument.
Obviously this level of trust is not something I give to just anyone in my life, and truth be told there is is probably just one other person on this planet (non-professional) that I would ask. Hair is a very intimate part of me, and I am extremely skeptical of the German hairdressers’ ability to handle Asian hair. I’ve tried it twice since I moved here, and the results have been so-so – too caucasian, if you understand what I mean.
To sum it up:
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues,they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. (1 Corinthians 13: 4-8 NIV)
Love is trusting someone you love with your hair and the kitchen scissors.