It all started when an old friend of Mother’s met them out shopping. Everyone said a polite ‘Hello.” Then Mrs. Jenkins patted the ten-year-old twins, Terri and Shari on the head and said, “My, what beautiful blonde hair.” The twins smiled but twelve-year-old Leanne frowned. Why hadn’t Mrs. Jenkins said anything about her dark hair?
Then during recess at school the next day Leanne and her friends were playing with Barbie dolls and one little blond girl said, “I’m so glad I have blonde hair like Barbie and not dark hair like yours, Leanne.” And that’s when Leanne started really hating her hair.
When she got home from school, she threw her brand new Barbie into a corner of her closet. And jealousy started eating away at her. She was jealous of her sisters, and the blonde girls at school and wouldn’t even watch cartoons or movies if the main character was blonde. Mom and Dad could see Leanne was upset but when Mom found the new Barbie scrunched up under some shoes in Leanne’s closet she knew something was really wrong.
She took Leanne out on the front porch and sat on the step with her. “What’s all this about hating your favorite movies?” she asked gently as she put her arm around her.
“I just don’t like them anymore,” Leanne said simply.
“Wow!” Mom teased, “And only last week you wanted to grow up to be just like Cinderella!”
Now Leanne looked completely miserable. “Well,” she said bitterly, “Obviously I can’t ever be like Cinderella because I don’t have blonde hair!”
“And that’s why you threw Barbie on the floor in your closet?” Mom asked gently. Leanne nodded, a little ashamed. “Do you wish God had given you blonde hair like Shari and Terri?” Mom prodded gently. Leanne nodded, close to tears.
“Stay right there,” Mom said suddenly, surprising Leanne out of her tears. “I have something I want to show you.” And she ran inside and in a few minutes returned with an encyclopedia. Turning to the right page she put the book on Leanne’s lap. “Look at these people,” she said, “Are there any that have blonde hair?” Leanne looked and shook her head ‘no’ wondering what mom was getting at. “That’s because they’re Jews,” Mom continued, “And Jews from Israel don’t have blonde hair. And do you know of a baby born a long time ago in a town in Israel called Bethlehem?” she asked Leanne.
“Jesus?” Leanne asked haltingly.
“Right!” Mom said. “Jesus was a Jew and he didn’t have blonde hair either. He had dark hair—like yours!” Leanne’s face lit up. She’d never thought of that! She smiled up at Mom. “I think God must like dark hair especially, don’t you?!” Mom asked her smiling daughter. Leanne nodded joyfully. Mommy hugged her, “And so do I” she said smiling. “Oh, and say,” she added, his eyes twinkling, “When Daddy gets home, please don’t throw him into some ole corner, like you did Barbie, OK?!”
“Daddy…?!” Leanne asked puzzled.
“Well, I know how you feel about people with blonde hair…” Mom said, trailing off, still twinkling at her daughter.
“But daddy doesn’t have….,” Leanne started then stopped. She looked at Mother and grinned. She had totally forgotten that Daddy had dark brown hair just like hers. All of a sudden she knew that she wouldn’t trade her hair for Shari’s or Terri’s for anything in the world. Mommy hugged her tight and said, “See why God and Daddy and I think you’re special?!”