Bad Hair Day



 What do you do when you experience a bad hair day? It can really get you off to a bad start unless you have access to a lot of attractive caps or hats. Ladies, it may not be a bad idea to keep an affordable easy care wig on your closet shelf.                                                    

This is a true experience about my worst hair day. It all began with a routine home perm. In my mid teens I had frequent perms done by my mom. My perms started when just a toddler with a Tonette. I had no reason to believe this hair treatment would have different results than all the rest.

She did the perm and then I rolled my hair on rollers for the night. The next morning I got dressed for school and began to style my hair. Something went terribly wrong! I could hardly get a brush or comb through my hair! It seemed to Mom that she had gotten the perm solution and neutralizer switched. My hair was fried!      

 How could I go to school looking like a freak? I know Mom felt terrible. I stood before the bathroom mirror crying and trying to do something, anything with my hair. I remember nothing about going to school that day. I could not hide forever. I remember getting it cut very short soon after and rolling it on very small rollers, which created a cute style. It eventually grew out.

My hair was not the issue. Dad was the highlight of the incident. That morning before school as I stood before the mirror crying, Dad came up behind me and started brushing my hair. He really understood the way I felt and did the only thing he knew to help–he brushed my hair. He did not have a magic touch; my hair still looked terrible. Yet, I knew that my Dad cared. That is what every daughter needs most. It does not take away all the problems of life; it does take the sting out of the wounds.          

Moms are usually there to help girls with their hair, clothes and makeup. In a pinch a tender-hearted Dad can really make a difference, maybe not on the outside, but in your heart where it really counts!

by Pam Ford Davis

Need Washing?


A little girl had been shopping with her mother in Wal-Mart. She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful red haired, freckle faced image of innocence. It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth it has no time to flow down the spout.

We all stood there under the awning, just inside the door of the Wal-Mart. We waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature messed up their hurried day. Always mesmerized by rainfall, I got lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the world. Memories of running and splashing as carefree as a child came pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day.

Her little voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught in. “Mom let’s run through the rain,” she said.

“What?” Mom asked.

“Let’s run through the rain!” she repeated.

“No, honey. We’ll wait until it slows down a bit,”

This child waited a minute and repeated: “Mom, let’s run through the rain.”

“We’ll get soaked if we do,” Mom said.

“No, we won’t, Mom. That’s not what you said this morning.” The girl tugged persistently at her mother’s arm.

“This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and not get wet?”

“Don’t you remember? When you were talking to Daddy about his cancer, you said,  ‘If God can get us through this, He can get us through anything!’  

The entire crowd stopped dead silent. You couldn’t hear anything but the rain. We all stood quietly. No one left.

Mom paused and thought for a moment about what she would say. Now some would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some might even ignore what she said. But this was a moment of affirmation in a young child’s life. A time when innocent trust is being nurtured so that it will bloom into faith.

“Honey, you are absolutely right. Let’s run through the rain. If God let’s us get wet, well maybe we just need washing,” Mom said. Then off they ran.

We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as they darted past the cars and yes, through the puddles. They got soaked. They were followed by a few who screamed and laughed like children all the way to their cars. And yes… I did. I ran. I got wet. I needed washing.

Circumstances or people can take away your material possessions, they can take away your money, and they can take away your health. But no one can ever take away your precious memories…

So, don’t forget to make time and take the opportunities to make memories every day. “To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven.”


(received through an email.  Author unknown)

Womb Talk

Newborn child, seconds after birth. The umbili...

Image via Wikipedia

Womb Talk

© 2010 Jeanne E. Webster

1 day:

22 days:
Thub dub…thub dub…thub dub…thub dub…

“Gee, Papa! You were right…this is fun! It’s goin’ thumpidy thump. I feel alive!”

28 days:
“Wow! My back is gettin’ stronger, and my liver, kidneys and ‘testines are growin’ too.”

“How much longer will it be, Papa?”

35 days:
“Papa, you’re so creative. Look at my eyes, legs, and hands! They’re almost shaped. Whoopee! I’ll be playin’ in no time!”

42 days:
“Hmmm…Papa, I think I can think now, and my mowf and lips are right here! See? I’m even gettin’ fingertails!”

49 days:
“Oh, look at me twitch my nose and toes! I’ve even got eyelids now. Watch me kick and swim in this watery pouch!”

56 days:
“Papa, thank you for all these things called organs! And, gee, my bones are turnin’ from that cart’lage stuff into harder stuff!”

“Wow! I just got fingerprinted!”

“Sssh…I think I hear people talkin’. They won’t hurt me, will they? Is it dangerous out there?”

63 days:
“Oh Papa, my toofers are coming in, and these fingertails will come in handy for scritchin’ the itchies.”

“Lookee…my head goes this way and that way. Am I cool or what?!”

“Oops…hiccup…hiccup…yep, I can do that now too!”

77 days:
“I can breeve a little too, Papa.”

“Oops, watch out…I went potty!”

84 days:
“I’m hangin’ on by my thummies! Whee! All systems are go! Am I ready yet, Papa? Is everyting ok?”

(first trimester is abortion’s prime-time)

91 days:
“Blahhhhh! Did you hear that noise I made? Ha Ha!”

“I’m learning to use my lungs by breevin’ fluid.”

“This thummie comes in handy. It kind of ends up in my mowf lots of times.”

“Was that a ‘No,’ Papa?”

98 days:
“I’m feelin’ stronger, Papa. Is my heart really pumpin’ quarts and quarts of sacred fluid ev’ryday?”

105 days:
“Papa, I can taste now too. I can’t wait to eat that peanut butter sanwinch you said us kids would like!”

4th month:
“My bones are growin’ fast and fillin’ up with that marrow stuff. And look…I’m almost 8 inches long!”

17 weeks:
“Wow, I’m dweamin’! All right! This IS fun!”

21-22 weeks:
“What did you say, Papa? If there’s trouble, I’m developed enough now to be saved? Saved from what? Are there bad things out there, Papa?”

20th week:
“I hear my mommie, Papa!”

(earliest stage that partial birth abortions are performed)


“She can’t hear me yet. I’m not afraid now, Papa. Mommie won’t let anyfing bad happen to me. It’s safe here, nice and warm and comfy.”

5-6 months:
“I’ll be needin’ some air to breeve pretty soon. This fluid is yucky!”

“Watch me grab that umbilical cord and spin around. Whee!”

“I’d better rest up; I worked up a sweat.”

“I’m really growin’! I’m almost a foot long and weigh over a pound.”

7-9 months:
“My eyetoofers are cuttin’ through already.”

“Watch these peepers work! I‘m almost all grow’d up. I can sense that Mommie is getting’ grumbly.”




“I’ve dropped down into a slide. This is scary! Papa, where are you?”