I have gray hair, at least that's what the kids say. They even pulled out a few strands to show me. I don't believe it, them. My theory is that the scorching Honduran sun has bleached my hair to an almost white state that will probably regain its shiny red splendor upon my return to the States.
There are two scenarios:
I am either drowning ridiculously in denial and unable to face the possibility of turning gray at the tender age of 22 [almost 23].
OR
I'M TURNING GRAY!
The latest is that I have no future plans to dye my hair. I do attribute this shocking discovery to the past six months. While this experience has been amazing, there are moments when I feel like it has taken a toll on me. What makes it so hard is feeling so helpless; feeling like the kids will never learn, never grow, never change, never forget, never become the people I want so much for them to be.
Now I know why parents gray so fast.
Sorry Mom and Dad.
For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
-Jeremiah 29:11
Lord, please bless these children. Guide them and help them learn to love and trust You. They're stubborn, hurting, confused, frustrated. May they see YOU, not me.
1 comment:
Just so long as they don't start calling you abuelita. I think that would get old rather quickly if in reference to their belief of your hair turning gray.
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