A Hair of Simplicity



Grandpa’s feet quietly shuffled across the porch until the harsh creak of the rocker broke the peace as he sat down. I continued to lay on the porch, tracing the cracks in the floorboards with my fingers. I briefly glanced up, locking eyes with him while his face wrinkled into an expectant grin.


“Oh, don’t gimme that look,” I looked out over the field.


I heard him clear his throat as he leaned back further into his chair,


“Uh huh…”


I sighed, “So, is this when you tell me about you and Grandma and how it all worked out in the end?”


“Nope.”


I flicked my head back to him, “What?”


He chuckled, “You already know that story. Nah, this is when I tell yah yours.”


I tilted my head to the right and shot him a quizzical look.


He sat up, resting his arms on his knees and clasping his hands together,


“Once upon a time, there was a lil girl that came runnin’ into the kitchen in tears cause Tommy Witter took a chunk of her hair out and held it up to one a ‘dem brown cows and told her he found her mother. Her grandfather held her in her arms and told her that her mother wasn’t a cow and that her hair would grow back. But that’s not what the girl needed to hear.”

I piped up, “What? That doesn’t make any sense.”