This past weekend, my daughter reached a big goal. For a year, she’s been growing her hair in order to donate it to Locks of Love. Shortly after the cut, she was sporting her new adorable bob, and had a giant smile plastered on her face. She told me that she had reached a big “Smilestone.” I asked her what she meant and she said, “It’s when something really important happens in your life and it makes you feel so good, you can’t stop smiling about it.” I told her that I loved her new word so much that I was going to use it as the title of this week’s blog. She surprised me by asking if she could write the blog herself.
So, I’m proud to present my beautiful 7-year-old daughter, L., as my guest blogger this week!
My Smilestone
Ever since I started Locks of Love, I knew I was doing the right thing…
Over a year ago, I started raising money for the Ronald McDonald house. I had the chance to get a tour of the NYC house and I saw some kids there without any hair. I found out that when you have cancer, sometimes the medicine you take makes you lose your hair. Even though the kids I saw seemed really happy at the House, I wanted to find a way to help.
I knew that if I didn’t have hair I might feel weird. I heard about an organization called Locks of Love. I wanted to find out more about it and it turned out to be easier than I thought. My aunt, my babysitter, and my best friend’s mom are just a few of adults I know who donated their hair to this great organization. They all inspired me. I realized that even if you’re doing one good thing, you can always do more. So, I told my family I wanted to grow my hair so I could donate it to one lucky girl who needed it more than me.
The only problem was my hair was only about 4 inches long and it needed to be at least 10 inches long! Months went by and it got more torturous with each brushing session. We tried every hair spray, conditioner and brush, but the knots in my hair were determined to drive us crazy. Every morning, I cried and screamed (my mom did too), while we tried to brush my knotty hair. Every month, we took out a measuring tape and it was always either 5 or 6 or 7 inches. We never thought we’d get to 10.
Even though it was so painful, I wanted to get to 10 inches so I could make a difference. A full year later, my dream came true. We went to the hairdresser to make sure and he said it’s right at 10 inches. He asked me if I wanted to grow it little more, but my mom, my little sister and I all said, “NO!!!!! We are definitely all ready.”
5…4…3…2…1! Snip! I couldn’t believe it! I had finally done it! I had finally got it cut! Here was a bigger surprise: the man handed me my actual pony tale! “WOW,” was all I could say, “WOW.” I felt so happy that I was going to make a difference. We mailed it in and it’s now on its way to someone special.
I wanted to write this blog because I hope that after reading my story, maybe you’ll decide to make a difference, too. Wouldn’t it be cool if even one person who read this blog told someone else, who told someone else, and one of those people (or maybe more) decided to donate their hair too? Maybe the difference-maker will be… YOU!!!
P.S. I LOVE my new hair-style!
L.
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