When I was small, I wanted to have “pink tails” desperately. I don’t know how I came up with the idea that “pigtails” were called “pink tails” ... it was probably a combination of misinterpretation and seeing other classmates wearing pretty pink ribbons in their hair.
The sad truth was, my mother was widowed at a young age with three small children. She also lost her left hand to bone cancer soon after daddy’s death. There was no way for her to put my hair into “pink tails.” Besides, my hair was so fine that hair barrettes slid out of it like ice cubes melting in my fist.
Today my granddaughter has the same problem, except that with whatever hair can be gathered, it is put into pigtails. She squeals with delight and I smile contentedly. She is getting to live my childhood dream.
Suddenly, last week it dawned on me, as a woman living with advanced breast cancer, that I, too, get to wear little pink ribbons now ... special pink ribbons! It still might not be in the form of pigtails (with ongoing chemo treatments), but I can and will wear my pink ribbons as “pink tails” — on the tails of jackets, pockets, blouses, shoes, and caps!
On Oct. 20 our team — chapel of hope stories — was attired in all shades of pink for the Race for the Cure. My “once upon a time” fairy dream coming true, as pink ribbons swirled around me on Daniel Island. God does work in mysterious ways!
Rebecca (Becky) Dingle
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