Fixing more than my hair...

Today my hairdresser rescued more than my hair.

Today was the glorious day I anticipate for weeks- the day someone else takes my hair into their hands, and dyes, snips, rinses, and primps away until my mane is finally friendly and manageable again.

Somehow the combination of fantastic female company, the fresh smell of shampoos and sprays, an unlimited supply of magazines, a basket filled with bite-sized candy bars, scalp massages, and new and innovating products for sale never fails to brighten up my day. The only thing that stops my salon-going escapades is the dent in my pocketbook that always seems to accompany a salon visit.

Today, however, I know I got my money's worth. And I'm not just talking about my hair.

While my tresses are indeed looking and feeling commercial-worthy, my hairdresser offered another service that she certainly didn't have to provide.

Becky is incredible. With Celine Dion looks and a handful of hidden talents, she is a beautiful person both inside and out. My mom first got to know her at a local salon where she first made her debut in Ogden. When her clientele was heavily padded, she eventually moved her practice to her home, where she has worked ever since.

A back entrance leads clients to her chic salon. A large parisian clock centers an auburn wall, and chocolate leather armchairs sit near a warm lamp and a generous amount of magazines. A stunning black and white family portrait shows off her beautiful family, each member with perfect hair of course.

In addition to my mom, Becky has also gotten to know my sister and I from hours of hair-transforming visits. Multiple times she has come to my rescue before a pageant competition or after a color crisis. But today was different. Today she saved me not from split ends or root growth, but instead, from myself.

I truly believe Heavenly Father places people in our path to bless our lives. Good or bad, these experiences are often a subtle answer to our prayers. Many times this happens in a way and from a person you wouldn't expect.

Today my hairdresser was an answer to my prayers.

We talked as we always do, but today our chatter dipped into more intimate conversation than usual. Rarely are we unaccompanied by other women patiently waiting their turn, but today the salon was quiet. No ringing phone or peppy music in the background. She knows me. Or rather she knows my situation. Quite well in fact. Her past is my present, and that makes it easy to identify with. We talked, and I spilled to her my worries, my demons, and my heart.

She portrayed to me her own situation, an open wound that still overwhelms her with emotion. By this time she had stopped wrapping my hair in foils. She spun my chair around and lowered her face in front of mine, somehow releasing every word I'd desperately been needing to hear.

My heart was soothed by the power of her black and white testimony. It was so clear and perfect that tears were threatening to overflow from my eyes. An entering client ended our time, but my mind absorbed her words as she continued to cut and color my hair. "I feel I should tell you..." she had said.

Today I am grateful that Heavenly Father places people along my path to answer my prayers.

I'm grateful that Becky can not only master the art of face-framing layers, but also listen to the spirit when needs be. Now THAT deserves a tip.