Can I touch your hair?

I spent a lot of time in Mel’s room.  She would work on science and math and I would work on english and art.  In between we’d have random conversations about life, aspirations, and the latest gossip.

She had curly red hair.  Her ringlets were thick and tightly wound.  I’d never seen anyone with hair like hers and she’d never seen anyone with hair like mine.  So as we sat in her room and she turned to me and asked, “Can I touch your hair?”  I said, “Yea.”

I tried to explain that it wasn’t my actual hair.  I had hair extensions and my hair was braided with other hair so that the style would last longer.

She examined a braid, turning it left and then right, moving it up and down.  She was genuinely interested and honestly amazed.

I decided to touch her hair as well.  It was soft and bounced back into a tight curl once extended.

I was beginning to learn that friendship comes with the desire to embrace differences.


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