Snip. Snip. Snip.

Nellie opened her eyes and saw the sky and clouds, then the grass, sky, clouds, grass, sky, clouds, grass, front porch. As she got up she felt her head move in a slow rolling motion. Then her upper body began to roll. With an outstretched hand to steady herself she grasped for nothing more than the air around her as she tried to get the movement to stop. When she had gained her footing, she looked around for Gran Maggie, her grandmother. When Nellie saw that she wasn't in sight, she darted up the hilly front yard. She had to go down again. So what if Gran Maggie had told her to wait until the yard had been raked before she went rolling? She didn't see what the problem was with rolling down the hill that had been mowed the day before.

When she arrived at the fence at the top of the yard, she squatted down and took a deep breath. Oh, the smell of fresh cut grass was heavenly perfume to a ten-year-old girl looking for some summer adventure. As she let out her breath, she rolled and her waist length chestnut brown hair was flying  like a wild mustang's mane blowing in the wind during a spring run through the fields.

This time when she landed at the front porch, she laid still. Rolling was fun but the after-effect was horrible. A shadow came over her eyes and as she slowly opened them she saw Gran Maggie leaning over her while wiping her hands on her apron. Normally Nellie loved the sight of Gran Maggie's apron. The only day Gran Maggie didn't wear her apron was on Sunday but the rest of the week she wore it from sunrise to bedtime. Today the red calico fabric seemed more alive against the back drop of the clear blue summer sky that illuminated her grandmother's figure.

"Child, look at your hair!" Gran Maggie exclaimed. "I see more grass than hair. Stand up and let me take a look at you."

Nellie slowly got up. Gran Maggie turned her around and around lifting her hair. With each turn, the clicking of her tongue against the back of her teeth grew louder. It wasn't sounding good to Nellie's ears. "I don't know how we are going to get this mess out of your hair. Go get a hair brush and a comb," she said as she turned Nellie toward the door and swatted her behind.

For an hour, Maggie tried to brush her hair. "This is worse than a bird's nest. Lord, your mother is going to be mad!" Gran Maggie couldn't help but laugh at the thought of Lila's face once she saw what this child had gotten herself into now. "I reckon' the only thing we can do is cut it."

Nellie froze. Cut her hair? For some reason, Nellie was strictly forbidden by her mother to cut her hair. She trusted Gran Maggie with all her heart, but had the woman gone mad? She pensively turned her head and looked over her shoulder. Mother would die when she saw Nellie's hair cut and she would take Nellie and Gran Maggie to the grave with her. Even at 10-years-of-age, Nellie was old enough to know her mother was not going to forgive or forget what Maggie was about to do.

"I know. I know," Gran Maggie said as she gently patted her shoulders. "There is nothing else we can do. We might as well get this over with so I can start dinner. Go get a towel and scissors out of my sewing basket."

While Nellie was inside, Maggie stared out the end of the front porch and looked over the fields. She had no choice. She knew Lila would never forgive her. If she didn't want Maggie to make decisions such as this, she should leave the child with her own mother. Besides, she couldn't have Nellie going to the square dance tonight looking like something the cat dropped on the porch. She turned and began stacking boxes of mason jars on top of one another.

Nellie opened the door and stared at the boxes. "Let's put you up here," Gran Maggie said as she lifted Nellie. "Now sit still. We don't want to turn these boxes over. Those jars are for apple butter." While tying a towel around Nellie's shoulders, Maggie said, "Well, let's take another look. Yep, that's a tangled web you have there."

Snip. Snip. Snip. Snip. Nellie felt air on the back of her neck. How much more was Gran Maggie going to cut?

After what seemed like an eternity, the snipping stopped. "There. I always liked your hair short but your Mother….. Never mind. Go have a look at yourself." said Gran Maggie.

Nellie went into the front bedroom and looked into the dresser mirror. She gasped. Below her ears, there was no hair. She stared deeper into the mirror hoping her hair would miraculously grow back. The last time she had hair this short she had been a baby and she didn't remember what it felt like. She pulled back from the mirror and turned around. She wanted to see it from the back. As she turned her head over her left shoulder, she felt her hair move with her. She stopped and turned her head to the right. There was that feeling again. She liked it. She liked the way she could swing her hair around her head.

"Well?" Gran Maggie asked as she peered around the corner.

Nellie looked at her and giggled. "Mother's goanna' hate it, but look how it swings when I move my head."

Gran Maggie chuckled. Nellie loved the way Gran Maggie's belly jiggled when she laughed. She turned and hugged her grandmother. As she pushed against Gran Maggie's belly, she wanted to savor the moment. Years later, reminiscing about the day with Gran Maggie, Nellie realized that the outcome of this incident helped her discover she and her mother were always going to approach life differently.